Beasts, Dragons, and Kings
by AllTheseWordsAreAgony
Summary: Chap 13 up, replaced author note chap.This is really more OOC than anything. If you're a die hard fan who thinks a story should be exactly like the game and follows rules, don't read this. Celia, a halfbreed Breton and Nord, ran away from Hammerfell. She discovered she was the Dragonborn, and must now find a husband.But there are many choices. DovahkiinxXxUlfric,Vilkas,and Farkas
1. Celia

Ok, this first chapter is kinda slow. But maybe I just think that because I had to rewatch the opening scene to Skyrim like 18 times to get all the lines down… anywho, you can ignore all the dialogue because it's literally exactly what it says in the movie. Hell, you can skip this whole chapter if you want to. Chapter 2 will be up soon and I promise it'll be a lot better than this. So stay tuned!

Beasts, Dragons, and Kings

'_Good gods my head…' _My eyes peeled slowly apart and took their sweat time focusing. I slid into an upright position, groaning softly. I was moving… Why was I moving? Oh, right… I was captured…

"Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right, walked right into that imperial ambush. Same as us. And that thief over there." I looked weakly at the Nord sitting across from me. He had blond hair that fell to his shoulders, and he had a braid on either side of his sturdy face. He had a beard, of course. About 97% of Nord men had beards. He was wearing a blue cuirass, something I had never seen before. Of course, I'd never been to Skyrim before, so it's not as if the fashion here would have been familiar.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there." I looked slightly to the right to see another Nord, this one looking more like a farmer than anything. He wasn't much to look at. Thin, tan, dark hair, beard. Bleh. He continued to speak. "You and me. We shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in tithes now." I wanted to ask what these two were talking about, but could not for the life of me find my voice.

"Shut up back there." I glanced at the driver of our wagon. He was paying us little mind as he maneuvered two horses down a hill at a snail's pace. The slowness mixed with the rocking of the accursed wagon made my…is it breakfast? Or have I been out for days? Well, whatever it was, the last meal I ate was begging to come back up.

"What's wrong with _him_ huh?" Horse Thief gestured across from him. I wanted to turn to look at this third person, but my neck had trouble. It took me a hot second.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim." My heart skipped a beat when I finally managed to set eyes upon this 'Ulfric' person. _'Good Dibella and Mara…' _The beast of a man sitting beside me—how did I manage not to see him?—was absolutely stunning… Even gagged and bound, I could sense the immense power radiating from him. He had strong features and the same hair and style as the Stormcloak Nord sitting across from me. I could see the brilliant green blue of his eyes even from the few feet away he was. The man was twice the size of me and had a good foot more on me at least, but I was not the least bit frightened. Those eyes… they were so… wise, powerful, and gentle towards me. He kept his gaze steady on mine.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion… But… if they've captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?" I frowned softly in confusion. Horse Thief was panicking, but why on earth could that be? This man couldn't possibly be that bad… Could he?

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." _'Sovngarde? The Nordic afterlife…?'_

"This can't be happening, this isn't happening!" I could sense Nord Stormcloak's annoyance rising with pesky Thief, and I sympathized with him. If I had a mind to find my limbs, I would reach across and slap Horse Thief silly. The thought made me smile gently despite myself. I glanced at the Nord Stormcloak and he was staring off into space thoughtfully. He turned back to Horse Thief, a pleasant smile upon his lips.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead… I…I'm from Rorikstead…"

"General Tullius sir! The headsman is waiting!" I jumped at the new voice and looked away from Ulfric. I blinked softly. We were in a city that was wealthy with poverty. But there were soldiers in studded armor walking along with the wagons and more of them lining the road.

"Good. Let's get this over with." I could see far above the wagon in front of us was a man with shaved brown hair, tan skin, and the most annoying voice I had ever heard before. I frowned more in confusion.

"Azura, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, divines please help me!" I looked back at Horse Thief. Realization that I was about to die steeped into my soul and panic began to well up within me. I tested my bonds and found them unbreakable. Along with my panic rose claustrophobia, being in the presence of which only caused me to panic more. I began to struggle, but under the cool gaze of Ulfric did I calm. I didn't have to meet his eyes to know the man was looking at me even more gently, with a hint of sadness. It tickled my heart gently and I sank back against the back of my bench in submission. I looked at my bound hands and felt a single tear escape out of my left eye. I thanked Dibella and Mara that he couldn't see it.

"Look at him… General Tullius the military cutthroat." Ralof was looking at the even more unattractive man in the skirt who was marching ahead of us, and I frowned softly. Tullius was the name of the man who was in charge of the Border Patrol. So…it was him I owed for being there… "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." I frowned as I fought hard to recall the Thalmor in my mind, wondering where I had heard the name before until I blinked softly. Thalmor were cousins to the elves who had ruled High Rock before the rebellion of the Bretons. _'I see they've leeched onto another country then…'_ "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl here. I wonder if Velod is still making that mead with Juniper Berries in it… funny, when I was a boy, the Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." Imperial…

"Who are they, Papa? Where are they going?" I looked around, frowning slightly until I spotted the little boy who spoke. He was only 10 or so and sitting on his porch, watching us drive past. His father turned to him from his place against the railing.

"Just go inside, Heldar." The father knew what was going on then… I'd wager half of this village knew what was to happen if that were the case…

"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers!" The boy looked up at his father from the floor.

"Inside the house. Now."

"Whoaaa." The wagon in front of ours began to slow. I was about to lose it. I could feel the hysteria coming on but gods forbid I would be to lose it in front of this Ulfric guy…

"Yes, Papa." The boy got up and walked inside, disappointed. I looked back at my bonds. _'So… I'm a sideshow entertainment now…'_ Several tears slid silently down my face and landed with soft _plips_ on my hands. I did nothing to stop them. I didn't care if Ulfric or even Dibella or Mara themselves saw. I would join them soon anyway…

"Get the prisoners out of the carts! Move it!" I noticed a woman with a strong build bark the order, and her voice sent shivers up my spine. She sounded so heartless…

Horse Thief was apparently dumber than I had previously thought… His eyes grew wide with confusion and fear and he looked to Nord Stormcloak. "Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think? End of the line…" A few moments passed after Nord Stormcloak's words filled the air until our carriage pulled up alongside the first one. The men stood dutifully, and Nord Stormcloak had to gently help me up. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

Ulfric stepped off first and slipped to the side. I lost sight of him in Horse Thief's panic.

"No, wait! We're not rebels!" He looked at the woman who appeared to be in charge, and the man standing beside her in a studded skirt with a quill and paper in his hands. They didn't take notice in him.

"Face your death with some courage, kid." I could understand Horse Thief's fear because it was akin to my own… but Nord Stormcloak's words confused me. Who could possibly walk into Death's open arms bravely?

Nords. That's who.

Horse Thief shuffled over to Ulfric as I got off the wagon. He was near tears as he grabbed Ulfric's sleeve with bound wrists. His voice was thick with begging. "You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is all a mistake!" Ulfric just looked at him.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." My panic broke through the surface and I visibly began to quiver with fear. I heard Nord Stormcloak's thud as he jumped off the wagon and he stood beside me. He slipped his bound hand into mine and squeezed it softly. As soon as it was there, it was gone again under the hateful, bored gaze of the woman ahead of us.

Nord Stormcloak sighed. "Empire loves their damned lists."

The man holding the piece of paper and quill looked at the first name. As he spoke it, I could swear it was like somebody had just stepped onto my grave, took their trousers off, and pissed right on my headstone. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." I watched dismally as the handsome hulk of a man walked with dignity and grace into a circle of prisoners surrounding a priestess, a headsman, and a chopping block. I wiped my eyes and looked away.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Nord Stormcloak's voice sounded like my heart felt: a false attempt to be strong and brave. Filled with sadness.

"Ralof of Riverwood." Nord Stormcloak stepped forward and gave me a slightly, sad smile before he too joined the circle of prisoners. I looked at my feet, shivering harder. Only now, it was mostly due to the damned cold… Even in the midst of winter at nighttime, High Rock was never as cold as Skyrim. "Nokir of Rorikstead."

Horse Thief jumped and shook his head. "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" I watched him as he ran past the two Imperials and towards the gate. The next few events happened too quickly for my mind to process…

"Halt!" shouted the Imperial woman.

"You're not gonna kill me!" He was almost there… So close…

"Archers!" From somewhere up high, a few arrows flew into the air. One of them pierced Nokir the Horse Thief's knee and another pierced his skull. He fell to the ground. _'So close…'_ "Anyone else feel like running?" I looked back to the Imperial and swallowed a lump in my throat.

The male looked at the list, flipped a paper or two, looked at me and frowned. "Wait. You there. Step forward. Who…are you?"

Tears stung my vision and I choked out a pathetic whisper. "C-C-Celia… My name is Celia…" With that, the dam broke and tears streaked in steady rivers down my face.

"Are you from Daggerfall, Breton?" I nodded weakly, wiping my eyes. " Fleeing from some court entry?" He turned to the female. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list…"

The female's words were harsh, staccato, and emotionless. "Forget the list. She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain… I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock. Follow the captain, prisoner." I turned and stumbled weakly after the female. My eyes turned towards the ground and my heart sank into the earth. I stopped at the edge of the circle, my eyes slipping closed. I sniffled softly, hoping nobody would notice me. To my dismay, I sensed several sets of eyes upon me. _'Probably laughing at me… A weak, wimpy little girl… You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Celia…'_

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." The annoying, unattractive Skirt Man spoke to Ulfric. I could hear the Jarl—whatever that was—huff behind his gag. I wanted so desperately to be closer to him, but I found my knees had not the strength to move. "You started this war and plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"

Somewhere in the near distance, a strange roar sounded through the village. Everyone jumped and looked up in surprise and confusion. A few people murmured, "What was that?" before being silenced by Skirt Man.

"It was nothing. Carry on."

The Imperial female shouted, "YES, General Tullius!" Her voice quieted as she spoke to a priestess wearing robes that resembled the robes of Mara. "Give them their last rights."

The priestess nodded and took a step forward, raising her palms up towards the heavens. "As we commend you souls to Etherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you…"

A man stepped forward. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" He stomped towards the block and kneeled.

The priestess frowned and huffed. "As you wish…"

This man was most likely crazed… Or just very anxious to reach Sovngarde… "Come on! I haven't got all morning! My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The headsman raised his axe high before letting it drop down with a sickening _shnickpe_ sound. I looked away as the prisoner's head fell off into a basket set in front of the block. I began to feel lightheaded, and knew I must be turning a slight shade of green. A woman wearing the same cuirass as Ralof the Nord Stormcloak yelled, "You Imperial bastards!"

Some Imperials—at least, I think they were Imperials. They had studded armor like Skirt Man—cheered. "Justice!" "Death to the Stormcloaks!"

Ralof appeared out of nowhere, suddenly standing beside me. I jumped at his voice as he spoke. "As fearless in death, as he was in war…" I glanced out of the corner of my eye at him. This guy wasn't so bad after all… Still odd and crazy, though.

"Next, the Breton!"

My heart stopped. My mind went blank. My palms began to grow sweaty as I struggled to breathe. In the distance, but much closer than before, another roar bellowed. I barely heard it. The only thing I saw was the chopping block. The head in the basket. The light reflecting off the headsman's axe. The only thing I heard was deathly silence. I knew there were people asking if others heard it the Imperial female began to grow impatient. I think she said something like, "I SAID, next PRISONER!" although I couldn't be sure.

The Imperial man with the clipboard spoke gently to me. "To the block, prisoner, nice and easy." It did nothing to move my trembling knees. Someone shoved me from behind and I stumbled forward. I glanced weakly at Ulfric, and immediately I stopped panicking. My tears ceased to roll. My heart began to beat gently again. I held my chin up high and walked with dignified grace to my certain death. I knelt gracefully down behind the lump of stone and laid my head down. I looked up into the sun, past the shoulder of my executioner. I could almost feel Dibella and Mara's welcoming arms embracing me in the rays of light.

And then the dragon landed.


	2. Farkas POV

**(This chapter is in Farkas' point of view. Also, please tell me what you think and review! w pwetty please? I really wanna get good at writing so I can get published one day… I know this is a fanfiction, but I do intend to have actual novels written someday) **

Celia's breath was labored as she struggled to swing her battleaxe one more time. She faltered, and the swing of the axe dragged her forward and spun her around so that she landed on her behind. She leaned forward, laying her legs in front of her and she gasped for breath as sweat dripped off her face. I had been watching her for the better half of an hour, dragged out of my dreams by the restlessness the full moon brought on. Vilkas had been my company for a while, but we had soon grown tired of each other. I had come out here to sit in silence, but I couldn't help watching the girl. She was still weak and young, and she had only been here for a month at the most, but she had managed to grow on me. She had great potential. Even if she had been in Whiterun only days longer than she had been one of the Companions, she had managed to infiltrate a dangerous cave and get the Dragonstone back, killed a dragon, and become thane of the town. It was no secret that almost everyone who met her had at least a bit of fondness for her. I would even venture to say that most men desired her. She was pretty. More than pretty. Her hair was ebony black, her skin was snow white, her lips were a dark pink, her eyes were an enchanting ruby red, and she was in glorious shape. But I wasn't attracted to her or anything… _'She's my shield-sister for gods' sakes… It wouldn't be right…'_ But there was something about her that kept my eyes focused only on her.

She coughed hoarsely. Her throat was probably sore and cold from her breathing. I slipped from the shadows and walked over, watching her carefully. "You're up early."

She jumped at the sound of my voice and looked up at me. Even in the moonlight, I knew she was blushing. I couldn't help smiling inside. "I-I couldn't s-sleep…" Her stammer was so damn cute… "When I woke up, I started feeling claustrophobic so I decided to come train…"

I nodded gently. "Me either." I wondered if she knew what I meant… Sometimes I could say such awkward things… It makes me think that maybe I _am_ slow like everyone says. She smiled and pressed her forefingers and thumbs together, spreading her palms apart so there was a triangle between her hands. She lifted her arms up towards the sky and stopped, pointing them at the moon. I could imagine she was holding it. I sat in one of the chairs and gazed up at the sky, stretching.

"You look nice without all that armor on." I looked at her, blinking. I looked down at my clothes—just an old tunic and leather pants. I smiled gently and took a sweetroll, nibbling on it. It amazed me how non-stale it was despite having been outside with the rest of the food for at least two days. We didn't tend to eat much around here, so there was really no need to have all this cooking done all the time, but it kept Tilma busy. The poor old hag couldn't go a damned day if she weren't up in someone's business, so we gave her her own business to keep her occupied. It seemed to work.

"Where are you and Vilkas from, Farkas?"

I blinked softly and looked at her. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my scraggly beard. "We aren't quite sure… (((Author note: I'm too lazy to try to go find if it ever tells you… and too stupid to remember lol))) Our father raised us here. Kodlak says we were the youngest Companions in the history of Skyrim.

"That must have been difficult. Having your future dictated for you by your father…" She looked down at her hands, and I got the feeling she was talking about more than Vilkas and me. I watched her as she picked up her battleaxe and stuck it on a weapon rack. She came over and sat across from me, looking up at the sky. I watched her face out of the corner of my eye. A gentile smile played across her lips, and it made her face light up a bit more. I had the sudden urge to reach out and hug her to me.

_'Wait… What? Damn it, Farkas, get a hold of yourself!'_ I looked away and stretched, feigning a yawn. "Well… Better go back to bed." I mumbled something that was completely incoherent, but she took it to be "G'night."

She smiled as I past her. "Good night, Farkas." I quickly descended the steps to my room, shivering softly. The way she said my name… It made my skin shiver in delight. I wanted to hear her scream it…to hear her whisper it to my ear…to… I didn't offer a word to Vilkas as I passed him and I pulled the edge of my bed in front of my door so it would be harder to get into my room. I sat down and took deep breaths, shivering. My clothes began to suffocate me, and I quickly discarded my shirt. I stood and paced the room a few times until a bottle of spiced wine caught my eye. I ripped the cork out with my teeth and chugged the spicy, warm liquid. It helped, a bit, but not by much. I growled softly and grabbed my armor, stuffing myself into it. I ran out the door, out of Jorrvaskar, out of Whiterun, and as far north as I could go with as much stamina as I had. I was in the frozen region within seconds, and quickly found what I was looking for. I ran the surrounding area twice to ensure nothing would attack me anytime soon, and I took my clothes and armor off. I held my sword tightly, though, as I plunged under the freezing waterfall. I howled as the coldness forced the blood from my groin. I couldn't stay long, for fear of drafting extreme frostbite, not to mention my howl might have caught the attention of something…unpleasant. I jumped out and pulled my attire on and walked slowly home.

I only made it about halfway.


	3. Vilkas

**Ok, so, someone said that switching p.o.v.'s was confusing, and I thought about it, and I decided he/she was right. I think I was thinking it would help readers get an image in their minds about what Celia looks like. Lol, I think I failed a bit. So, from now on, Celia will be the narrator from on. Please review! :D I needs it.**

** ((remember. This is Celia talking.))** I was silent through dinner. I watched my friends eat and laugh and drink and sing stupid songs that had no rhythm whatsoever, and for the life of me I could not get involved… My mind was far too preoccupied. Farkas had been gone far too long; he had left an entire day ago. I know I did not know him well, but I firmly believe that a man like him would not have run off without saying something… I watched Vilkas carefully. If he was worried about the abrupt disappearance of his big, burly, simple-tongued brother, he hid it well. Although I could not be sure. Those fathomless grey eyes could hide anything. Those eyes… I blushed as he caught my gaze and I looked down at my plate. I felt him watching me for a moment longer, feeling as though his eyes were undressing me slowly and his hands were upon my pale skin…

"Celia?"

I jumped and looked at the man in the center of the table. He looked at me with kind, wise, ancient eyes. "Y-Yes, Kodlak?"

"Does something ale you, child?" His voice sounded so like my late father's… Warm, welcoming, and full of strength…

I looked down at my plate. "I am simply worried about Farkas, sir… He has been gone too long, in my opinion."

A couple people chuckled, namely Skjor and Aela. Kodlak glanced at them, and they silenced themselves. "Do not fret, child. If he has yet to return by Middas, then we will send a search party for him."

I nodded and excused myself quietly. I slipped past everyone and started down the stairs to the Whelp Room—as I had come to call it. It seems no one of actual stature slept there, so the rest of us were basically whelps.—meeting Vilkas' cool gaze as I headed down. I blushed again and hastened my steps, quickly delving into the bed I had designated as mine.

It was still early when I awoke again. Even without windows, I knew the moon still hanged high in the sky. I rubbed my eyes and coughed softly before a cold chill ran up my spine. There were no sounds in the room other than my own… my breath, my heartbeat, no snores, no mumbles. I frowned softly and listened harder. I heard some sounds of laughter upstairs. _'Dinner must still be going then…'_

"Celia?"

The sudden voice in the darkness caused me to jump, which in turn caused me to begin to tumble out of bed, until I met the warm embrace of a particularly nice-smelling, big-muscled man. "Farkas?" I whispered.

The man chuckled and the sensation reverberated through my body, making me feel warm inside. "Try again, lass."

**((((Note: Here's where it gets….steamy… Literally and metaphorically. I suggest if you don't want to read my first attempt at smut, you should skip to the final paragraph or the next chapter… Although…..if you read it, I **_**would**_** like to hear how I did… But meh.))))**

I blinked and blushed. Vilkas. I could have figured as much… Farkas didn't take much pride or care in the way he smelled. Vilkas, on the other hand, liked to smell sweetly. I didn't move, my blush darkening as he didn't let me go. "W-What are you doing down here, Vilkas? Shouldn't you be up eating?" I tilted my head up, able to catch the faint outline of his head against the darkness. I saw him shake it gently and he held me closer, sitting on the bed. He pulled me into his lap and buried his face in my hair, breathing softly. My heart raced wildly in my chest. I had never been in such close proximity with a man I was attracted to before. He pulled me tighter to him and kissed my head gently, before moving slowly down to my neck. He stopped as if asking if this was ok. _'Is it…? Is it ok for me to like him and Farkas?'_ Not to mention, I still had nightly visits from Ulfric in my dreams… '_Just do something before he walks away!'_

I shakily flicked my hair over my shoulder and tilted my head, allowing my neck to come into full view. His lips smiled against my skin and he gently opened his mouth, latching it onto my sensitive skin. He nipped it gently, eliciting a small gasp from me. His smile widened and he flicked his tongue against my flesh, sending delicate shivers up and down my spine. My breath grew more ragged with every second that passed. Just as I began to wonder if it could get better, he began to suck on the part of my neck that was pulsating. He chuckled softly, no doubt amused by the speed my heart was pounding, and his hands slid down my body gently. His touch left a burning trail of desire on my skin, and I soon forgot how cold it was without my pants on.

He rubbed my thighs for a moment before he gently gripped them and turned me around. He settled me so that I straddled him with my chest flush against his. His mouth claimed mine in a passionate, lustful kiss that took what little breath I had out of me. I shuddered softly and wrapped my arms around his slender neck, arching into him. Between my legs, I could feel a scorching heat radiating from his groin, and his bulge rubbed against my flimsy underwear, teasing me. I rubbed myself against him, whimpering softly. He swiftly lifted me up, holding me against him, and he carried me easily to his room. He shut his door behind him and set me on his bed, gently untying my tunic. He eased it over my head and kissed down to my breasts, while his hands worked on untying my slip. I tilted my head back, biting my lip as I moaned softly. He sucked on my left nipple, one of his hands gently teasing the other while my skin broke out in goose bumps. His other hand worked at his tunic. There was a brief second where his hand and mouth left my breasts to pull his shirt off before his hands were back, and his mouth was on mine. He laid me back gently and rubbed his knee against my throbbing groin.

I buried my fingers in his hair, trying to fuse our bodies together. He wasn't close enough. My breath was erratic as I bit his lip softly. He groaned quietly and fumbled with his pants hastily. I released his hair and pushed my panties off as quickly as I possibly could. He kissed me again as he settled between my shaking legs. One of his large, warm hands went to my waist, pulling my hips up while his other rubbed my thigh, teasing me. I growled softly and bit his lip, harder than before but not enough to be painful. He chuckled and gently slipped a finger into me. I winced gently, but otherwise gave no inclination of my discomfort. He kissed my neck softly as another finger joined in, stretching me gently. I breathed shakily, took a moment to notice the steam rising off our bodies in this freezing night, and buried my face in his neck. His fingers worked wonders on my virgin womanhood for just a moment longer until he gently took my face and looked at me. His eyes were full of want, worry, and love. "Are you sure you want to do this, love?"

If I could blush anymore, I know I would have. I nodded gently and he kissed me gently. I wrapped my arms around his ribs, pulling myself close to him. I closed my eyes gently, and counted to three before I nodded. He gently pushed his thick, throbbing dick into me, met my virgin wall, and thrust through. I squeaked, biting his shoulder hard and my nails dug into his back. I trembled violently, on the point of convulsing, as I waited for the pain to subside. He didn't move a muscle, didn't let on if I had hurt him. I probably did. I tasted blood. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone gently, all without moving his hips. He waited until I had relaxed and given him a nod to gently pull halfway back out and thrust back in. His pace was slow and steady, and as he moved, my pain subsided into discomfort, then slight pleasure, then more as his pace quickened. I wrapped my legs around his waist, beginning to move with him while I trembled. He bit my neck harder than before, and sucked harder, but I moaned louder as well. My thighs tensed, my stomach grew hot, and I held onto that sensation as long as I could before it became too much for me to handle and I gasped/moaned shakily. He slammed into me one final time and held me tightly. Neither of us moved for three seconds before I collapsed backwards, and he shakily pulled out of me. He laid beside me and hugged me tightly to him. I buried my face into his warm chest and I held myself close.

He stroked my hair and looked down at me, smiling gently. I breathed in this new scent of his sweat. He smelled wonderful, like warm, spiced ale. I felt him kiss my forehead as my eyes grew heavy and shut. The last thing I heard before the dark oceans of sleep consumed me was this: "I love you, Celia."


	4. Forsworn

**:D Thank you for the reviews! It's awesome to get advice from people who aren't forced to make you feel good (like friends, etc.) Also, word of warning, my boyfriend almost sprained my fingers so they're super sore, so I'm trying to type with a hand and two fingers. E_e''' So, excuse any typos. Please. Review! :D**

I woke up beside Vilkas, and a small smile touched my lips. I stretched forward and kissed his temple softly before I rose. I slipped into my tunic and went to check on Farkas. I opened his door with a creak and poked my head in. I frowned as I looked around; the room was completely undisturbed. I went to Kodlak and rubbed my eyes. "Grandfather, has Farkas returned…?"

Kodlak blinked at the use of Grandfather, and my stomach sank a bit. I hoped he would pin it to my obvious exhaustion, and he pressed the matter no further. He shook his head softly. "No, child. Speak to Aela. She and Skjor are preparing to depart in search of him. Awaken Vilkas if you'd like."

I nodded and went to rouse my lover. "Vilkas, we are setting out to find Farkas…" He opened his stormy eyes and yawned, sitting up. He smiled and kissed me softly. I smiled back and nuzzled my face into his neck for a second. "Come upstairs after you've dressed… Kodlak said Aela and Skjor are preparing…" I kissed his cheek before slipping silently out of the room. I grabbed my bow, quiver, and battleaxe from the Whelp Room, along with my bag of potions and herbs before I ventured upstairs into the main hall. I grabbed a sweet roll and nibbled on it absently as I approached the Huntress. "Vilkas and I will accompany you. The more we have, the faster we'll find him, yes?"

Aela nodded but did not look me in the eyes. I frowned softly and chose to let it go. I sat on the table as I munched on my pastry. We were waiting only a few minutes for Vilkas to march up the stairs. My ear twitched and I sighed softly. He and Farkas were always so loud… Their steps weren't careful, and they often made enough noise to awaken a pit of skeevers… I rubbed my eyes softly and smiled at him. he smiled back and looked at the others. "Let's go."

Aela nodded. "Skjor and I have followed his scent to the boarder of the Pale."

"What in Tamriel would possess him to go up there…?" Vilkas wondered.

I shouldered my pack, frowning softly. "We should get going before the trail runs cold…" I rubbed my eyes as I followed my friends out the door. I watched as they carefully undressed and put their clothes in their bags, tying those bags to one of their legs. One by one, they convulsed, growling and stretching, every aspect of their body growing longer, harrier, deadlier. Just before Vilkas changed, I heard him utter an apology to the Nine—the divines of Skyrim's inhabitants. He asked for forgiveness for his changing, and he closed his eyes as he transformed. It wasn't more than half a minute before three towering, terrifying beasts stood in front of me. The three were basically the same, the only differences were slight changes in coat color. Normally, a person who has just witnessed three people transforming into wild, raging beasts would make one…fertilize their pantaloons, so to speak, but I was familiar with the nature of my friends. Farkas and I had been sent on a mission during which I had gotten myself stuck in a small room, and before Farkas could get me out, he had been attacked by a dozen men and women from a secret society called the Silver Hand who acted under the god Stendarr. Stendarr despised anything that was not solely mortal, and thus, he hated vampires, werewolves, etc.

Vilkas looked at me with the same kind, grey eyes he had in his mortal form before he laid in front of me. I smiled gently at him and nodded. "Understood…" I slipped silently onto his back, burying my fingers in his thick hair and I leaned down close to him. I smiled gently. "I'm ready."

Vilkas growled softly, but not out of anger. He licked my hand before looking at Skjor and Aela. Together, the three of them jumped over the wall of the city. I screamed into Vilkas' neck as we fell the 50 or so feet of a sheer drop down to the ground. The three wolves stopped to get their bearings for just a moment before they each took off with long, powerful strides. They didn't stop once until we had arrived at the edge of the Pale. I shivered at the sudden coldness and pressed closer to Vilkas. Bretons weren't built for such cold weather. Aela nodded at Vilkas and pointed with her nose towards the west, Skjor the east, and she nodded at the ground in front of her then pointed forward with her nose. The other two nodded, and Vilkas set off running towards the east. We went a short ways away until he stopped and laid on the ground. I slipped off, my teeth chattering from the cold. Vilkas bit his pack off and buried his nose in it before pulling out his tunic and he bit it gently, putting it into my hand. I took it gratefully and kissed his nose before slipping into the extra warmth. I smiled softly. "I'll search higher in the mountains. I'll trill my flute if I find anything, ok?"

He nodded and licked my cheek before running off into the dense forest. I looked for a manageable path up towards the towering mountains that encompassed much of Skyrim. As I found a path, I started climbing, my breath visible in front of me. My nostrils filled with the sweet sense of the wooded area around me. I worked my way up to the top before I crouched and looked around, my eyes almost closed. I held my breath and focused hard, my vision zooming in in front of me. I scanned each and every inch of the snow I could until I needed another breath. I breathed the freezing air heavily, each intake chilling my throat and lungs. I turned and scanned the other side of the mountains. I began to get dizzy with the strain performing this took on my body. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple before a strange scent was carried to me by the wind. I inhaled slowly, analyzing it before I frowned. I turned and stood, finding the small stream of smoke floating towards the heavens. I scaled quickly down the side of the mountain and ran towards it. I slowed to a walk and crouched in the bushes, peering out at the sight before me.

A group of men, all wearing some odd sort of armor that looked as if it had been made out of goats sat around a fire, laughing and sharing stories. I scanned the area before my heart chilled to the point of the air. "Farkas," I breathed softly. I stared in horror at the hulking lump of bloody flesh that sat against a pole, his hands tied above his head. I trembled softly and calculated my odds. My hands moved before my head had told them to, and my bow was pulled from its place on my shoulder. I moved farther away and held my breath, taking my aim. I released a silent arrow into the tallest of the men's head. The others grabbed their spiked weapons and looked around, bewildered. I repeated the action twice more before I was forced to find a new spot to hide. More people, all wearing the same variations of that weird armor spilled out of the camps and I panicked. I ran deeper into the woods and drew my flute, playing a birdlike trill that Vilkas would undoubtedly hear. I drew my sword as I waited in the underbrush. I played the trill again twice more before I heard the thundering paws of a hulking beast coming towards me. I turned and met Vilkas' gaze. "I found him… Follow me, and stay silent…"

He obeyed as I lead him silently back to the camp and I looked at him. "There's too many for just me to handle… You take the east side and I'll take the west… Wait for my signal to attack…"

Vilkas nodded and slipped off. I followed suit in the opposite direction until I felt I was in the middle. I whistled twice before we descended upon the savages. Beast and woman swatted aside savages as if they were nothing, until Vilkas and I were the only ones standing. I panted as I ran to Farkas' side and I cut his bindings. His hands slumped to the side and the hulk of a man began to fall forward. I caught him across the chest and laid him down with his head in my lap.

There was no time to bother with my bag. I dropped my sword and put my hands on his chest, focusing all my energy on my hands. I chanted softly under my breath to heal him. Vilkas joined me, his beast form cast aside. He dug through my bag quickly until he pulled out my strongest healing potion. He tipped his brother's head up and gently helped him to drink the bitter liquid. Farkas' eyes opened slowly and he coughed blood as the potion worked to fix his innards. He looked at me and his hand reached up, wiping my cheeks. I hadn't realized I was crying until he smiled weakly. He looked at Vilkas and coughed again. "S… Shame on you… Letting a scrawny lass… freeze in this… weather…"

Vilkas chuckled softly and swatted Farkas' head gently. "Shut up, you big lug… You had us so worried." He helped Farkas take another drink of the potion before Aela and Skjor came out of the woods. Farkas looked at me again as I healed him slowly. I blushed softly under his gaze, grateful only he could see. Vilkas' view of me was obscured by the hair that fell around my face. I looked away before I started shivering hard. Vilkas helped Farkas onto Vilkas' back and the twins looked at the Huntress and her lover. I stood slowly as I shivered and I slipped off to scour the bodies of our fallen enemies, taking what I liked, leaving what I didn't. I then proceeded to explore the camp, waving the others on. I could feel Farkas' gaze on me as they left, and I sat down gently on a bedroll.

'_Dibella… What have I gotten myself into?'_

XXXXXXX

I returned to Jorrvaskar, wearing another set of clothes on top of the ones I had on when I left. I stumbled through the door, my teeth chattering, and I dropped my bag. I sat next to the fire, warming myself and I rubbed at my eyes. I looked around the empty dining hall, yawning. I wondered idly what the point was of having a squared horse-shoe table was before I laid back, looking up at the rafters. It took me a little while longer to realize there were no sounds to be heard except for the crackle of the fire and the beat of my own heart. I frowned in confusion and stood, peeking out the door to the back porch. No one.

"What the…" I frowned more and grabbed my bag, heading to the Whelp Room. I set it on my bed and looked at the empty other three before I ventured to peek in on the other rooms. Kodlak had a note on his door stating he had ventured to Solitude to scour the library. Aela and Skjor's rooms were unoccupied, and I had known Vilkas was to leave on a mission for Kodlak that day. I sighed, almost about to skip Farkas' room before I heard him stir inside. I sighed in relief and gently knocked.

"Come in…" His voice was quiet, probably expecting his brother or someone.

I opened the creaky door and blushed immediately. I looked away, swallowing dryly. "I uh… Sorry… Was just uhm… Ah…" I turned around, shivering softly.

Farkas was almost as red as I had been when I turned around, and I heard him shuffle quickly. I heard him grab an article of clothing and pull it on before he cleared his throat.

I peeked at him, relieved to find he had put pants on, and I relaxed slightly. "Uhm… Where is everyone?" He shrugged and sat down by his bar, pulling a bottle of spiced wine from a shelf. I sat across from him, inspecting his skin. "H-How are you feeling?" I looked away, blushing more. He was stronger-looking than Vilkas, and his skin was more taught, more appealing. I shivered softly in delight, forcing myself to stay away from him.

"Much better. That potion has finished working."

_**(((WARNING! IT GETS SMEXY AGAIN! I think I have an addiction… Lol.)))**_

"That's good…" I looked at the ground, fidgeting slightly. I could feel his gaze on me, and it made me break out in goose bumps. I bit my lip softly and closed my eyes. The silence wasn't uncomfortable or even awkward, but so many thoughts ran through my mind. What those strong lips would feel like, what those calloused hands could do to me, how it would feel waking up to such a big man, how it would feel if—"C-Celia?" I looked up at him, blushing deeper. He fidgeted slightly before he stood and stepped closer. He squatted so he was at me level and I watched him, slightly wide eyed. My heart was racing, and I was sure he could hear it. He gently took my hand. Good gods, his hand was twice the size of mine… I looked at him as I blushed, and he leaned closer. I couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't get closer, just sat there in bewilderment. Farkas' other hand gently cupped my cheek, and I shivered at the sensation. His skin was so rough, but it was an extraordinarily pleasing sensation. His big, soft lips pressed against mine, and I groaned softly in pleasure.

'_What the hell, Celia? You just bedded his brother not even a day ago… But gods, he's so damned good at this…'_

Farkas pulled me closer to him, his kiss hardening with his growing desire. I shakily pressed my hands to his bare chest, leaning closer. He quickly picked me up and sat me on the bar, settling between my legs and he looked at me. "Celia, I like you…"

I smiled gently and kissed him in response. _'Whore.'_ I couldn't even care. This moment was just as perfect as it had been with Vilkas, and although I felt bad, I wanted this. I wanted it so much it was uncanny. I pulled him closer to me as his tongue flicked my lips. I shivered and purred softly as his tongue slipped between my lips and played tag with mine. I giggled softly before I gently sucked on the muscle, eliciting something akin to a purr which radiated from deep within his chest. He pulled back and sighed, staring at my clothes. I blinked and smiled, standing up on the bar. I was suddenly thankful for my shorter height, because if I had been much taller, I would have cracked my head on the ceiling. I smirked gently at him as I slid out of the first full layer of clothes I had swanked from the Forsworn—the savages—as well as my gloves and my boots. His eyes watched my movements like a hawk, and the sensation of his gaze boring into my soul sent shivers along my spine.

I slid out of Vilkas' tunic, tossing it to the side. I was finally in my fine-fitting lightweight armor, and I smirked softly. I gently swayed my hips, running my hands slowly up my sides before I began to slowly untie the leather straps that held my top closed. His eyes followed my hands as they worked their way up, and I smirked again. I slipped slowly out of the garment, and giggled as he licked his lips. I undid the button that closed my pants and shimmied my way slowly out of those as well. I giggled again, turning slowly for his admiration, swaying my hips and I ran my hands along the length of my thigh. Farkas growled and grabbed my legs, pulling me to him. He sat me back down on the bar and kissed me roughly, forcing his pants off in one strong push. He ripped my slip off and his teeth found my nipple. He bit the sensitive flesh rather harshly, and I gasped, arching my back. I grinned in delight and buried my fingers in his hair, clutching it tightly. I watched as he sucked harshly at the mound. I shuddered harshly and untied the sides of my underwear, lifting myself up to pull them out from under me. Farkas barely noticed and he bit my lip, kissing me furiously and passionately.

I groaned softly, clutching his hair tighter. His breath was deep, ragged, and hot against my skin. My heart was racing extraordinarily fast in my chest as I panted. His nails dug themselves into my thighs as he pulled me onto him. I gasped and arched my back as he bucked roughly into me. I buried my nails in his back, trembling as his mouth dominated my breast again. He growled in deep pleasure as he bit me and thrust roughly into my core. I trembled, laying back so that only my butt was on the bar and my torso hanged in the air. I moaned loudly, wrapping my legs around his waist as this new position gave him a better angle.

As he pounded into me, he was able to thrust upwards, each time hitting a bundle of nerves located deep within me. I screamed softly as his thrusts became more sporadic, harder, and deeper. I watched him as he bit my stomach, growling louder with every thrust. I clutched his midnight-black hair tightly and arched my back roughly. I screamed in pleasure as that familiar tenseness in my body released itself, and I released myself onto Farkas. He continued to slam into me as his hot, milky seed was deposited in me. I trembled as I panted, my heart pounding in my head. He lifted me up and kissed me gently, carrying me to his bed. He laid me down and stroked my body gently, smiling softly. I watched him, shivering gently. "You've marked me…"

He grinned gently. "Several places. But there's one here that _I _did not create." He looked at me knowingly and I looked away in shame. "I do not blame him. I would think him insane if he had not come for you." He leaned over and kissed my cheek. I smiled gently at him and kissed him gently before I closed my eyes.

_**(((Ok, it's over now. :D)))**_

XXXXXXXX

The next day, it was still just Farkas and myself. I sighed as I looked at my journal to see what missions I had to do still. I rubbed my eyes tiredly, pouring over a large map of Skyrim. I plotted my path, Dawnstar to Winterhold, Winterhold to Windhelm, Windhelm to Riften, Riften to Riverwood and so on. I sighed and began to pack my travel bag, yawning widely. I was immensely sore from the night before, but was grateful that the big lug slept heavily. I was fully packed and ready to go when he woke. He looked tiredly at me as I ate my lunch quietly, reviewing my route once more. "Where you going?"

I sighed and yawned. "Where _aren't_ I going, is a better question to ask. I've got so much stuff I need to do…"

He nodded knowingly and sat beside me. He hugged me gently and kissed my head. "The others will be back today. Are you leaving before they arrive?"

I nodded and coughed. "Yes. I can't waste much time if I want to be back within a season."

He sighed and kissed my cheek, hugging me tighter. "Stay strong."

I smiled and nodded, standing up. I stuffed my map into my pack and kissed him gently before I slipped out the door, beginning my official life as an adventurer, sell sword, thief, mage, and murderer.


	5. Winterhold

_**Let me just say right now, this chapter might be a bit…jumpy. It's my first exam week (my finals are in two weeks) so I keep having to write a bit and leave off, plus I'm trying to get to Ulfric's entrance and…yeah. I'm too impatient I guess. Please review.**_

Skyrim was an inconsistent, harsh, unforgiving maiden. Every road—and shortcut through the woods—brought bears, wolves, ice wraiths, and a whole buncha dragons. I would have frozen in a second if it weren't for my tight-fitting leather armor. It did well to preserve my body heat, but did not help my hands or face.

Crossing the border into The Pale was like stepping from my warm home in High Rock into an icy lake. Snow flurried around me, whipping my hair back and forth around my body. Snowflakes clung gently to my armor and laid on my eyelashes gently. It was beautiful, to say the least, even if I was sure I would freeze. I tried my best to stick to the shadows, but I still warranted the attention of just about every creature thriving in this frozen wilderness. Thankfully, this helped me to learn how better to watch my step and my enemies at the same time. I noted the line of view each creature seemed to have, and I marked it in a journal so that I might study it later. I tried my best to ignore the itching temptation to plunge myself into dark caves, but a few managed to ensnare my childish curiosity. After a particularly nasty encounter with a family of Frost Trolls that left me with three sprained ribs and a broken bow, I decided it was best to avoid everything from now on… _'Just focus on your tasks at hand, dummy.'_

My time in Dawnstar was short lived to stay the least. I stayed for only about a week, but I had managed to make out like a bandit. I pillaged an old, haunted temple and found my leg in gold, received the blessings of a Deadric "prince"—she's really a female, so I often wonder why she is not referred to as a princess—named Vaermina, as well as her staff which fed off of the dreams of my sleeping enemies. I thought it was pretty nifty, at least. I made a point to keep it so that I might hang it on a wall and admire it when I gained enough coin to buy my own house. Having spent hours robbing them myself, I find that there could be thieves in the Companions… But, I'm probably just paranoid. Along with the Daedra stuff, I also gained a new objective to find the pieces of some stupid sword for this creepy museum keeper, and so on and so forth. I distinctly remember the elf's freakish yellow eyes watching my every move as I looked around his three-display case museum, and then again as I left. I shuddered gently. It wasn't that an elf mate would be horrible, it's just I do not want a creeper for a lover.

The perilous, freezing, hazardous travel from Dawnstar to Winterhold held three dragons, about 20 wolves, and quite a few slaughterfish—who happened to be in absolutely freezing water... Let's see _**you**_ try to escape a horde of super-strong bandits and not think of anything better than swimming… I find not many enemies follow you in water…

Anywho, I talked to a few people in town and found some cool things to do, until someone directed me to the Mage's College. I surveyed a peculiar scene as I was about to depart up the slippery-looking ramp. I tilted my head as an old man in mage's robes spoke to an intrusive-looking elven woman who guarded the bridge. I saw him exchange gold with her for a spell tome. He read it within a moment and produced a flame atronach. I smiled softly. I knew that spell. If that was all I had to do to get in, this would be a snap.

The elf looked at a little elven girl—probably her sister—and said something. The little girl smiled and took the old man's hand and chattered happily as she began to lead him on the path to the castle above the lake. I rubbed my eyes and slipped from the shadows, yawning. I stepped up to face this woman and she stopped me. Her voice was hard and deep as she asked my reason for my presence. I looked at her sleepily and smiled slightly. "I want to use the power of ice and fire to destroy any who oppose me."

"I see. That power certainly exists, I assure you. Wield it faithfully, and few can withstand you. It would seem that the College has what you seek. The question now is what can you offer the College. Not just anyone is allowed inside. Those wishing to enter must show some degree of skill with magic. A small test, if you will." She looked at me pointedly.

I nodded, smiling. "I'll take your test then."

"Excellent. The Mage Light spell is useful to any mage, not just those practicing in Alteration. Can you cast one on the seal on the ground?"

I frowned softly. So that's how it was. Stingy mages… Always looking for a little extra coin. Not that I'd ever try to milk my jobs for their worth… No, never, not once… "I don't know that spell," I said. I made it clear in my stony glare that I knew she was ripping me off. (((((((Note: I chose to do it this way because I've had two characters in Skyrim, and they both had to do a different spell to cross the bridge….))))))))

"No? Well, if you think you're capable of it, I'd be glad to provide it to you for a mere 30 gold. Or you can try your luck with one of the court wizards around Skyrim. They also sell spells." For an increased sum, mind you.

I grumbled, dishing the coin out of my purse. I gave it to her grudgingly, skimming quickly through the spell tome she gave me. I focused my energy into my hands and closed my eyes. I let the sensation build before releasing it, and opened my eyes slightly.

I almost squealed in delight when I saw the light blue ball of flame stuck to the ground. I looked at the elf and she smiled. "Well done indeed. I think you'll be a superb addition to the college. Welcome, Apprentice. I'll lead you across the bridge. Once inside, you'll want to speak to Mirobelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. Come with me." I followed her, rubbing my eyes and I idly wondered if everyone was corrupt in this town. It would certainly explain why everyone seemed to despise the College… Se la vie, dommage pour moi.

XXXXXXXXXX

With my acceptance to the College brought my own living quarters—a small cubby hole in a large round room shared with many others—where I managed to sort my things into necessary and not-so necessary. I felt a gazillion pounds lighter, and managed to sprint a fourth of the distance between Winterhold and Windhelm. And I only fell once.

I hummed as I trekked through the frozen wilderness, the only sign of life besides the frozen vegetation being snow foxes and horkers. I knew better than to get near these large beasts, and they took no interest in my passing by. I smiled in relief, having not wanted to have to kill anything. I happened to hold a deep love for everything this world had to offer…except those damned dragons.

I could see the Palace of the Kings from a fair distance away. I smiled gently and tilted my head, taking a moment to admire it. "It's so pretty…" I whispered. The bone-chilling wind whipped my hair about, and a shiver along my skin reminded me to keep moving. I yawned gently as I slipped my way down the mountain, flinching slightly as I underestimated the final jump. I rubbed my knees and sighed, wiggling my ankles slightly.

_*snap*_

I whirled around, my hands quickly snatching my bow. I loaded an arrow and scanned the frozen wilderness surrounding me, my ears twitching, listening for the slightest hint of movement, the slightest breath of a creature. I held my breath, fearing that whatever had made the sound would notice the puff of hot air floating away, or even hear the sound it made as it passed through my nose. I would have stopped my heart if I could…

"Now!"

My arrow whistled through the air and crashed into the throat of one of my attackers. Just one, though. I summoned the power of flame and sparks to my hands, trying to engulf the mass of writhing, thriving, angry men. It felt as though the fire in my hands was sated in my soul. It thrashed in the pit of my stomach and chewed its way through my veins until it found release in my hands. The sensation was indescribable. Not pleasurable, but not painful. It was…consuming. Like every pore of my body wanted to burst into flame, and it was tiring to try to control it and keep it held to just one part of my anatomy. I bit my lip hard, ducking whistling axes and ringing blades, feeling the icy nip of an apprentice ice mage casting a spell on me. The bodies of my enemies thrived and thrashed erratically in a sickening form of a tribal dance all around me. I felt the fire dying inside, and I struggled to keep the power emitting from my hands steady, but it was only a matter of seconds until the raging animal in my body silenced itself. I panted slightly until I felt the sharp crack of a mace against the back of my skull.

The world was consumed in deep, dense darkness.

XXXXXXXXX

When I awoke, the sun was glinting haphazardly off the fresh snow. I squinted against the glare, trying to blink the sleep from my eyes. My hands were bound and held above my head. I didn't have to look to tell that they were a sickly purple from lack of oxygen and blood. I coughed gently and forced my head to turn. Pickaxes pounded away at the back of my brain as I tried to understand what I was seeing. Stormcloak soldiers were bound, some dead, some just barely alive. Many had been beaten, but one remained untouched. His cuirass was completely clean, his hair barely tousled, but his back was to me. He was big, that much was certain. I began to ask him where we were currently located when I felt the thick cloth tied tightly around my head. I forced myself to keep calm, knowing that if I panicked I would only injure myself. My nose had been broken when I was a small child, and it hadn't healed correctly, so now when I breathed through it there was only about half as much oxygen as there should have been.

Oh, right, the camp. I counted three large tents, and dozens of smaller ones. No doubt the smaller ones only contained bedrolls, and the larger ones were an infirmary, legate housing, and a map room. I twisted and wobbled myself until my legs were beneath me, and I forced my toes to press into the ground. I tried to lift myself into a standing position, but to my dismay, my bindings would not permit it. I looked back and noted I was tethered to a pole. I huffed audibly, drawing the attention of a waking Stormcloak. He looked at me with wide eyes. "Thank the divines, you're awake! Dragonborn, you must save us!"

I stared at him with tired eyes, making my confusion noted with just the way I held myself.

He whispered gently to me, "The Imperials found our camp, and shortly after they took us, they stormed the city. They've killed more than half of us, Dragonborn. My lord, Jarl Ulfric, is just the same as you." He looked over at the hulking man and my heart skipped a beat. Of course that was Ulfric. I shook my immediate embarrassment away and focused on what the soldier said.

'_Damn Imperials, how many times are you going to almost kill me until you realize I'm not a Stormcloak?'_ I quickly shoved my legs back out in front of me and leaned back against my pole, closing my eyes as sounds of footsteps on the snow came closer. I slowed and deepened my breath. My wrists were released from the post although not from each other. I kept my façade up, letting the soldier swing me onto his shoulder. He began to walk with me, and he spoke to another soldier. I didn't focus much on what the said after I realized they weren't saying anything important, until the second soldier said, "What the hell, Ryat? The bitch is awake."

"Damn. Fix it."

I felt the sharp crack as my poor, defenseless skull was once again cracked, and the black wave of unconsciousness surrounded me, suffocating me.

_**Again, sorry for how mixed up this was… it's really hard to make a chapter long when everything in it is boring. Just a word of warning, the next chapter will probably be disturbing to some, as it will include rape and abuse. If you are uncomfortable with this, please just wait until chapter….6? or 7? Bleh, the chapter after the next one is up. Reviews are appreciated :D unless they're mean. -_- then I get mad and it's just stupid looking when I get mad.**_


	6. Captivity

_**Is there anyone still reading these? Lol. if you're still here, I'mma take that as this story is at least a little bit doable, and therefore I must continue until the end…whatever that may be. I still haven't decided. But, this is a warning. This chapter contains explicit rape and violence that may be psychologically harming to some people. You may just wanna skip it and go to the next one, or you can skip down to after the break. I'm sorry if this disturbs or disappoints anyone.**_

_**w Please please please please PLEASE review. It makes my day. :D **_

_I was flying. It was a peaceful sort of flying, with the clouds misting across my face and curling my hair, seeping into my pores. The sun was behind me on my shoulder, so the world below was filled with stark contrasts of darkness and orange. I smiled as I took deep breaths of the crisp, chilly winter air and grinned. I leaned back, spreading my arms wide as I basked in the warmth of the sunlight. I opened my eyes and gazed up into the stars. The sun went down far too quickly, and as I looked back down on the world below, my view was blocked by rough, large scales. I began to tremble softly with fear, reaching for my battle axe, only to find it was gone. I tried to punch the back of the dragon's head, but my hands were bound and my clothes were gone. The dragon looked back at me and grinned, turning on his back. I screamed as I fell into the darkness. The stars laughed as they glared at me with dark, red stares. _

I gasped as I awoke, my eyes opening wide. I tried to rub my eyes, only to find my hands bound above my head. I tried to frown, but my mouth was gagged tightly. I started to tremble as I felt too much of a chill from the unforgiving Skyrim air. My breath quickened as I looked down at my bare body. Tears misted my eyes at the absence of my clothes and trinkets. Surely, all my gold would have been split up amongst my kidnappers, and my jewels and dragon bones and whatnots would have been traded already for more gold… I hanged my head in dismay, trying my hardest not to cry. I was a Companion after all, the vision of strength and resilience. What would it say about me and my friends if I broke down sobbing right now? It would say, 'The Companions are weak, sniveling babies who give up on a moment's notice' is what it'd say.

"Oi, I think the beaut should be up by now. Bout damn time too. Was about to go get our damn gold back from those Imperials f'er sellin' us a defective whore."

I flinched at the harsh male voice and sighed faintly. There was rustling from the largest tent in the camp, the one directly across from my pole. The tent's flap flipped open and 5 men, an Argonian, a Breton, a Khajit, an Orc, and a Thalmor walked out, all of them shirtless. I was repulsed by their appearance and equally repulsed at the fact that these fat pieces of dragon lard managed to capture me. I focused all my anger and repulsion in my gaze at them as they looked at one another. The Orc nodded to the Argonian, and the Argonian stepped to me in two swift sides. He licked my face before he lifted my hands off the pole. I squirmed and growled, kicking at him, but it was like kicking stone with how little he reacted. He dragged me by my arms into the tent, and I shuddered at the scale-y-ness of his hands. The other four chuckled. The Khajit followed him into the tent and shut the flap behind him. The Argonian dropped me on a bedroll in the center of the tent, but before I could squirm away, he grabbed my wrists and tied them to the pole that held the center up. He grinned at me and turned to the Khajit. "You want first go, Rariqa?"

The Khajit smirked and nodded. I froze, every single muscle in my body tightening. _'Dear Gods…'_ The cat undid his trousers in one smooth go, and I growled in the back of my throat. I kicked as hard as I could and thrashed against my bindings, growling louder. The cat chuckled and looked at the Argonian. "Jira-yol, it seems she's not… frightened enough…"

The lizard chuckled and backhanded me with such force, I felt my neck might break if another blow landed on me. I growled and fought more until the cat stomped on my ankle, no doubt breaking it. I screamed at the back of my throat, arching my back in pain as the gag I wore decreased the sound to almost nothing. I trembled violently as I fought back tears. The cat took the opportunity to grab my legs and pry them apart. He held them with firm—with remarkably soft fur, mind you—and roughly down, digging long, razor-sharp nails into my hamstrings. One of the men from outside yelled, "Don't break our toy before we even get a chance to play with her, now!"

'_Dibella… Mara***… Please, kill me now… Save me… Please…'_

The lizard chuckled and licked my face, roughly rubbing my pale, scarred breast with a rough, scaly hand. I didn't move except to breathe as I stared at the small ring of sky above me, produced by the smoke-hole in the tent. I prayed desperately for a dragon, a horde of trolls, a stampede of mammoths to suddenly burst through the woodland and trample my captors, but to my dismay, nothing did.

The cat flicked my womanhood with his tail, and I twitched in disgust. Encouraged my repulsion, he leaned down and bit my nipple hard, cutting the delicate flesh. I flinched and whimpered softly, trying to kick him again. His nails tightened against my muscle and I felt my blood cooling almost to ice against my skin. He chuckled and licked the blood on my nipple before thrusting his length into me. I flinched sharply as my womanhood tried to resist his insane length. He wasn't even more than one or two inches long, but he was almost as thick as four of my fingers. I trembled, unable to fight back while he "pounded" into me, and the lizard rubbed my breasts and ground his groin into my side.

The cat only lasted a minute or two—such is the nature of domesticated felines which are considerably dumber and smaller than Khajit—and bit my side roughly as he "filled me with his hot seed", as I'm sure he as thinking it felt like. He grinned and slipped from between my legs, licking his paw as he left the tent. The Argonian took his sweet time in settling between my legs, stroking my thighs with his scaly claws. I shuddered at his touch, bile rising in the back of my throat. He grinned at me before he shoved himself into me. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming as he pushed through my cervix******. He bit my neck roughly as he pounded harshly into me, all the while making a satisfied moaning from deep in his throat. I closed my eyes tightly, trembling weakly while tears spilled over my cheeks. I was too numb from both the cold and shock to feel my tears freezing on my skin. The only thing I could feel was the bite of the gag, bonds, and the insatiably uncomfortable tug of the scales on his dick as he pulled back. I idly wondered how Argonian woman weren't driven mad by the pain of having their insides cut with each thrust of their lovers.

The pain went on for at least half an hour before he slammed his full length into me and emptied himself. He smirked and called for one of the others. I didn't move as the last three humans had their way with me. The Breton was the nicest, taking me as a lover. He didn't even bite me. The Orc was even a little pleasing, but that accursed Thalmor... That damn troll didn't take _me_… Rather, he forced me onto my stomach—without moving my hands, mind you, so I was sure they were at least about to sprain—and he took my ass. He bit my back repeatedly, mumbling into my ear quietly, "You're so damn tight, stupid bitch… Any tighter and I would hurt even myself… And gods be praised, your blood is so beautiful…"

I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.


	7. Ulfric

_**Firstly, sorry for anyone who's favorite this that probably got a sh!tload of messages saying I've uploaded/changed anything. -_- I realized none of my breaks were put into the stories, and I had font stuff messed up and… yeah. Anywho, nothing major got changed. I just edited some stuff**_

_**:D So, sorry again for how crappily short that last chapter was. But meh. I think fans of a certain jarl will like this next chapter. But, here's some fun facts I learned today. (idk if this is common knowledge or not, but I thought it was cool since I'm intending to move to France when I'm done with college)**_

_**Nord, in French, means north. So, where are more Nords located? North. Skyrim is the most northern country of Tamriel.**_

_**A Breton (in real life, mind you) is a person who comes from a region in France called Brittany. Also, High Rock is about the same size as France. **_**I **_**thought it was clever at least…. ANYWHO! ONTO DE STORY!**_

When they were done with me, they dragged me back outside and left me on the pole. I stared blankly at the stars above, every inch of me screaming, crying, spasm-ing. I was sure I would bleed to death before the morning came. I closed my eyes and began to pray, asking for forgiveness for all my discretions. Darkness swept over me several times, seeming to suck me under the black abyss of sleep, but each time I awoke, the sun was not much farther in the sky than it had been previously. I couldn't cry. My entire body was numb, each nerve in my skin frozen in place. Just opening my eyes and breathing took every ounce of strength I had in me.

"By the Nine…"

I wanted to open my eyes, to call out to the unfamiliar voice approaching me, to do anything to draw his attention to me, but my body was as good as dead. I barely felt the pressure on my mouth released as my gag was free, and I was vaguely aware of my body being turned, my head being lifted, hearing the cork pop on a bottle. I gagged slightly at the bittersweet taste of a healing potion, but almost moaned at the almost instantaneous relief it brought. My skin began to close itself, and I felt a little energy return to me. I felt the familiar weight of a pelt being draped across my body, and the tenseness in my hands evaporated as my bonds were severed. I sighed weakly in pleasure as my blood rushed through my body.

My rescuer stood and I heard a few footsteps before I heard the familiar sounds of battle. Five bodies hit the ground within minutes, and it was another five minutes for my guardian angel to come back to me. I was lifted in strong, gentle arms and held close. I breathed in the scent of him, so feminine yet still masculine. He smelled clean, like when he bathed, he had snowberries in the water, but he still held the undeniable musk that men of Skyrim often had clinging to their cuirasses. I shivered softly at the smell and mumbled softly into the brute's chest just before I was sucked back under the black ocean, "Windhelm…"

XXXXXXX

When I awoke, it took me several minutes to get my bearings. I coughed weakly, but was pleased to find the agony that was ripping my body the last time I was awake had been replaced by a dull discomfort. I rubbed my eyes, whimpering gently as my heart pounded behind them. I looked around at my room, frowning gently. This wasn't Jorrvaskar, but it also wasn't a regular inn… This room was stone, chilly, but the furniture in it was very regal. I pulled myself into a sitting position slowly, growling gently at my discomfort. I looked around again, rubbing my eyes before spotting my bag and a fine dress beside it. I frowned and huffed, digging into my sack. I tugged my spare set of leather armor out and pulled it on, relaxing gently at the familiar weight and pull it gave. I coughed and shivered slightly, pulling the beautiful pelt from my bed and I draped it across my shoulders. I stepped out into a hall that was twice as cold as my room without the beautiful ornamental fireplace. I looked up and down both ways, but each gave no hint as to where they led. I decided to go right, hoping this staircase went down because somehow I knew I was not on the ground floor. I passed a set of rooms directly across from one another, like my room had been with another before I turned down a staircase. I stepped silently down the cold steps, deciding that I should have tried to find my boots, but that task was far too tiring to bother with. With a heave, I pushed open a large wooden door and was forced to blink at the magnificence of the hall before me.

I had stepped into an impressive stone throne room, a long table placed directly in the center and piled high with food of all kinds—sweetrolls, honey treats, seared slaughterfish, cheese, ale, venison, everything I could possibly name. there was a blue rug, the same blue the Stormcloaks wore, and all along the walls were tapestries embroidered with the seal of Windhelm. I admired the ferocious bear with his teeth bared, shouting at his enemies, and I wished for just an instant that I was as brave as that bear. Somehow, this mostly empty and freezing room felt more like home to me than the warm, musky halls of Jorrvaskar. More at home, even, than the warmth and humidity of High Rock.

There was a small handful of guards spread about the room, minding doors and the likes. At the end of the room stood a man in brown fine clothes and a stupid fine hat, standing beside a large stone throne. He started at my presence and rushed down the longhall to me. "Good heavens, girl, you should still be in bed!" He had the voice of an overprotective father. I frowned softly and rubbed my eyes, about to argue. He took my hands and started to lead me back to my room.

But, not even the strongest mammoth in the world could budge me after I heard the most wondrously deep voice I had ever heard. I vaguely recalled having heard it somewhere, but I couldn't for the life of me place it. "And what would you have me do?"

"If he's not with us, he's against us." I shuddered at the roughness of the second man's voice. I turned to the sounds and waited. It was only a few moments before the hulking angel of my dreams walked out of a room off to the side. I blushed and resisted the sudden urge to run to him and sling my arms around his thick neck. Instead, I released my hands from the finely dressed man and approached the throne, which the giant of a man was sitting down at. I bit my lip, suddenly very conscious of my appearance, of every hair out of place, every bit of grime under my nails. I fidgeted slightly, coughing gently.

"He knows that. They all know that."

"How long are you going to wait?"

Ulfric began to reply, but, noticing me, he turned to me. "Good to see you are awake. Do I know you?"

I nodded slightly. "I believe we've already met, yes…"

"Is that so? Ah… Yes. You were with us at Helgen. Destined for the chopping block if I'm not mistaken."

I nodded. "I helped Ralof escape… He said he'd vouch for me…"

"Ralof? I hope that's true. He's a damn good man. But, he hasn't returned yet, so I'll need to wait for his account. For now, speak to Galmar. I'm always looking for able fighters. Not everyone can say they made it out of Helgen. Seems we're _all_ branded villains. So long as your criminal past stays in the past, and you fight for me with honor and integrity, we'll welcome you into our ranks."

I prayed to the gods that he could not see the goosebumps that had risen along my skin at the sound of his deep, throaty voice. I nodded slightly and bowed before going to find the coarse-voiced man. He sent me on some stupid mission to kill an ice wraith up at the Serpent Stone, but told me that I was not to do it until I was back to full health.

I looked to Ulfric, wanting so bad to stay to talk to him, but he was already busy talking to the fine-clothed guy. I went back to my room and curled up under the pelts on my bed, snuggling up with the journals I had collected on my travels.

XXXXXXXX

_I knew I was running from the numbness in my legs and the ice that burned my throat. The ocean to my back, I tripped over sand and the open land around me rushed past in a blur, and sweat beaded down my face, neck, and back as the sun glared down at me between the leaves high above. For the life of me, I couldn't look behind me. Deep, impenetrable fear rose up along my spine and flesh each time the notion popped into my head. It took me a moment to realize that the liquid on my face was not only sweat, but also tears. I couldn't remember why I was crying, but somehow I knew that the farther I ran, the better it would be. _

_Soon, the world around me began to slow as my breath trembled and came in short, desperate gasps. "No!" Even without knowing what I was running from, I knew that stopping wasn't an option. I willed my legs forward, praying for a miracle, but to my dismay the world continued to slow. I began to weep as I gasped for precious air, every step I took tremulous and full with the possibility of being my last. _

_Darkness began to creep to me, its dark tendrils reaching for my legs as if to trip me. I glanced down at it, sobbing now, and in that split second I burst through a grouping of bushes and plummeted over 50 yards into dark, cold water. The dark waves shook and rolled me. Slaughterfish began to bite my legs and arms and stomach before one looked at me and spoke in a deep voice. "Celia…. Celia… CELIA!" _

I screamed, sitting up quickly. I scooted back to the head of my bed, trembling violently as I gasped for air, crying softly. I looked at the other person in my room and instantly felt the need to cry harder. Ulfric was looking at me patiently, his blue gaze kind and harmless. I fought the urge to sob and composed myself to the best of my capability.

"Are you alright?" I didn't dare trust my voice, deciding best upon nodding. He smiled gently and patted my hand. "I myself am frequently cursed by night terrors… Something from your past, perhaps?"

I didn't offer an answer, looking instead at the soft pelts. I hugged my knees and laid my chin on them, still trembling softly. I closed my eyes for just an instant, and in that instant, Ulfric wrapped his massive arms around me and pulled me to him. I blushed softly, shivering gently. I didn't move, letting his warmth and strength soothe my jittering muscles. He waited until I had relaxed to release me. He looked at me before reaching past me, his face dangerously close to me. I blushed deeper, looking away from his gaze. He pulled back, bearing a rag and he gently dabbed the sweat from my face. His hand lingered on my cheek for just a moment before he stood. "Sleep, girl."

I watched as he swept gracefully from my room, shutting the door silently behind him. For just a moment, I caught his gaze, and a deep shiver rolled along my spine. I wanted more.

**Wow. I just realized what a whore my character is. meh. Review? :D? Maybe?**


	8. Kodlak

As the sun rose and peeked in through my windows, I sat up with a stretch and yawn. I breathed deep and began to toss the pelts off me, but quickly retreated back to their warmth. I sighed quietly and stretched my muscles, purring contentedly. I gazed at the warm fire still burning strong in the fireplace and wiggled my toes. I sucked in a deep breath of air and jumped out of bed, scrambling into my armor and a pelt which I hooked with a bent lockpick. I did a few warm up exercises—jumping jacks, sit-ups, push-ups—and, satisfied with the quiet discomfort in my lower abdomen, I began to pack my bag. I slipped into my unique boots, with the heel being three inches tall and made of stone, and smiled at their comfortable feel. Of course, I had to compensate for the added weight on the balls of my feet with fresh down feathers and cotton every two weeks, but I think it was worth it. They made my legs look longer, as well as made me taller. They didn't even hinder my ability to explore and get out of a jam, and if I needed to be quiet, all I had to do was wrap the heels in a few cloths. I smiled as I hiked my bag onto my shoulder, and I made my way to the main hall.

I found Jorleif the steward at the table and told him I was setting out to slay the stupid ice wraiths. He nodded and said he would pass it along. I scanned the room with eyes and ears, listening and looking for Jarl Ulfric, but to no avail. I walked slowly to the door, defeated.

I put my hand against the thick wood of the door and began to heave, until a shrill squeal of laughter broke through my concentration. I cringed and looked back, frowning, until my heart splintered. I stared blankly as Ulfric walked into the throne room with a surprisingly beautiful woman at his side. I felt tears gather at the back of my throat as I took in her blond hair, fair skin, and subtle curves and I looked away as she slipped into his lap after he had taken his seat on the throne. I hastily pressed all my weight against the door and ran into the city.

I couldn't get out fast enough.

I ran as fast as I could to get to the stables, ashamed of the heartache in my chest and the guilt I felt for having the heartache. I jumped into the back of the carriage stationed outside the stables and gave some money to the driver, muttering that I wanted to go to Riften, the next place on my map. He snapped the reins and chattered happily, but about what I don't know. I sat between the benches, staring at the road behind me as I tried my hardest not to cry. I closed my eyes and thought about Farkas and Vilkas, and my heart ached to be with them. Halfway between Windhelm and Riften, I wiped my eyes weakly. "Driver, sir, please could you take me to Whiterun instead…?"

"Sure, but that's an extra ten septims."

I handed the money over without a word, drawing my knees to my chest. I began to weed through my bag, tossing the things that were weighing me down but were worth too little money to bugger with. I closed my eyes, breathing the chilly, crisp air until I felt the need to scream and cry and break things subside. I counted foxes and rabbits to pass the time it took to arrive in Whiterun. I slipped out of the carriage and thanked the driver, giving the horse a gentle pat on the neck as I walked past. Homesickness sank in the closer I got to the giant stone walls, and just after the guards opened the door, I began to sprint to Jorrvaskar. I burst through the door and sighed softly from the instant warmth. I breathed in the deep, smoky smell of my home, thankful that the homesickness subsided a bit. I looked around and frowned softly at the looks I was receiving. The people eating in the hall looked at me with faint disgust, especially Athis who blatantly glared. I walked briskly to the Whelp Room and dropped my pack on my bed.

With the _thud_ the bag made hitting the bed came the sudden wash of dread. I frowned and closed my eyes, frowning more. "What the hell am I thinking…?" I sat down and hugged my knees, frowning more. Farkas and Vilkas were bound to be here, together, probably hurt by my actions if not killing each other, and I would have to face them both. I buried my face in my knees, grumbling softly. It was stupid of me to come back so soon.

"Welcome home."

"We didn't think you would be back so soon."

I froze, panic setting in. I shakily looked up at the twins, biting my lip softly. "H-Hi, guys…" _'That's really funny, Mara… Dibella, kill me now…'_

They looked at each other before Farkas took two steps to me and swept me up into his arms, draping me over his shoulder with my arse beside his face. I squealed and flailed my arms and legs. "Let me down!"

They chuckled softly and Vilkas patted my leg. "Now, now. You're going to hurt one of us, New Blood."

Farkas adjusted me and followed Vilkas down towards their rooms. They went into Vilkas', and I immediately frowned. Books on the floor, a falmer ear laying amongst them, his table messed up. I was hit with a sudden need to organize, and I grumbled, trying harder to squirm from Farkas' iron—and very provocative—grip on my butt. He deposited me on the bed and looked at his brother, who smiled. They both looked at me and I shivered under their gazes, looking back and forth between them. "Look, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I'm just confused and I do like you both it's just—"

Farkas covered my mouth and kissed my temple. I blinked in surprise and looked at Vilkas, knitting my eyebrows together. "We're not upset, lass. In fact, we understand…"

I blinked again, frowning in confusion behind Farkas' tough hand. I promptly bit down on one of his fingers, gently so that I didn't hurt him but enough to let him know I wanted him to let me go. He chuckled and released me, and they each sat beside me, each brother resting his hand on my thighs. I looked at the pair of them, frowning in confusion. "How are you not upset that I slept with you both…? Shouldn't you be screaming at me? Trying to make me feel like cow dung?"

Farkas kissed my cheek. "We love you."

Vilkas smiled gently and rubbed my leg. "We want you to be happy. So, if that means you desire the pair of us, so be it." He stroked my cheek with his knuckles and I blushed softly. Farkas kissed me softly, cupping the back of my head gently. My blush deepened and my gut twisted into knots. He released me gently and smiled softly at me before Vilkas put his finger under my chin and turned my head, slightly roughly, to me and he kissed me deeply, hugging my waist softly. If I had any more blood to spare, it would have rushed to my face to join the blush already there.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, and I jumped in surprise. Vilkas glared at Aela. "What do you want?"

She sneered at us, and I looked down in shame, although why it was shame, I wasn't sure. "Kodlak wants to see her." She stuck her nose up and turned around, trodding back out of the room.

I sighed quietly and stood up, rubbing my eyes. I gave them a slight wave and slipped out into the hall, taking the five or so steps into Kodlak's living quarters as slowly as I could go without driving myself crazy. My heart was pounding in my chest. _'He's figured it out. There's no way he'll accept you…'_ I bowed slightly to him before taking a seat across from him at his little round table. I hugged my knees to my chest. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, youngling. I hear you've been busy as of late." He looked at me with calm, grey eyes and I nodded slightly.

"Aela and I work to avenge Skjor's death…"

He nodded knowingly. "Your hearts are full of grief, and my own weeps with the loss of Skjor." He took a sip of mead and set it back down gently. I watched his wrinkled hand and hugged my knees tighter. "But his death was avenged long ago. You have taken more lives than honor demanded. The cycle of retaliation may continue for some time. In any case, I have a task for you. Have you heard the story of how we came to be werewolves?"

I frowned softly, shaking my head. "Vilkas said it was a cursing laid upon the ancient Companions." I recalled Vilkas' words carefully. Contrarily, Skjor had called it a blessing delivered to them from Hircine. I chose to believe Vilkas.

Kodlak nodded again and looked at the ceiling. "The boy has a nugget of truth, but the reality is more complicated than that. It always is." His voice dropped slightly with an infliction of sadness.

"So… What's the truth, then?"

He sipped his mead again and leaned back in his chair. "The companions are nearly five thousand years old. This matter of beast blood has only troubled us for a few hundred. One of my predecessors was a good, but short sighted man. He made a bargain with the witches of Glenmoril Cavern. If the Companions would hunt in the name of their lord, Hircine, we would be granted great power."

"And they became werewolves?" I frowned softly as I rested my chin upon my knee, looking at the floor.

"They did not believe the change would be permanent. The witches offered payment, like anyone else. But we had been deceived."

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. "But, aren't you more powerful now?"

"The witches did not lie, of course. But it's more than our bodies. The disease, you see, affects not just our bodies. It seeps into the spirit. Upon death, werewolves are claimed by Hircine for his Hunting Grounds. For some, this is a paradise. They want nothing more than to chase prey with their master for eternity. And that is their choice. But I am still a true Nord. And I wish for Sovngarde as my spirit home."

"Is there a way to cure yourself?"

"That's what I've spent my twilight years trying to find out. And now I've found the answer. The witches' magic ensnared us, and only their magic can release us. They won't give it willingly, but we can extract their foul powers by force. I want you to seek them out. Go to their cavern in the wilderness. Strike them down as a true warrior of the wild. And bring me their heads. The seat of their abilities. From there, we may begin to undo centuries of impurity."

I nodded softly. "It shall be done."

He smiled and patted my knee gently. "Talos guide you, lass."

I stood gently and slipped back to Vilkas' room. I rubbed my eyes and squirmed in between the brothers, sighing softly. I looked tiredly at them both and smiled softly, closing my eyes to sleep. They didn't disturb me, cradling me between them as if I were the most delicate thing in the world.

Xxxx

I decided to delay joining the Stormcloaks, and put everything planned after doing so off for about a month. Instead, when I set out the next morning, it was with my axe, a few potions, my bow and arrows, and a large sack. I slipped out quietly before anyone had woken, making sure not to awaken anybody. Rather than going through the doors of the city, I slipped into the Underforge and ventured down the hall, slipping out the hole/door that led to a gap in the walls. I hummed and set off for Glenmoril Cavern, checking my map frequently.

It was easy enough to get the old buzzards' heads. I chose to eradicate their magic entirely by killing them all, and I heaved their rather heavy craniums onto my back. I took my time heading back to Jorrvaskar, reveling in the warm glow of the rising sun. I passed little trouble along the way, a small pack of wolves being my only problem. No worry, though. As I trudged closer and closer to home, a slight sense of unease began to quiver in my soul. With every step, I found myself moving just a little bit faster until I was sprinting full speed through the doors of the city, through the town square/circle, up the stairs, and stopped dead. I stared at the carnage that laid about the front of Jorrvaskar, several bodies of Silver Hand laying in their own blood, my friends standing around looking grim. I looked at Torvar, who bounced from heel to heel with his sword drawn, looking grim. He looked back at me. "The Silver Hand finally had the nerve to attack Jorrvaskar. We got most of them but I think a few stragglers got out," he explained. I hurried past him and burst through the heavy wooden doors.

_**NOTE! IF YOU HAVE NOT GOTTEN THIS FAR IN THE COMPANIONS' QUESTS, QUIT READING UNTIL THE NEXT SET OF UNDERLINED, BOLDED, AND ITALICIZED WORDS. Unless you're like me and don't give a rat's ass if a part of something is spoiled then good fer yew. **_

Vilkas pounded up the few steps in front of the door, glaring daggers at me. "Where have you been?" His voice was hard, harsh, and cold.

My heart splintered slightly as I looked at him. "I was doing Kodlak's bidding…" I looked past him and tears welled up in my eyes. I stared blankly at the disrobed body of my grandfather, my second lover kneeling over him. Breathing became a difficult task.

"I hope it was important, because it meant you weren't here to defend him." I flinched and looked away from Vilkas, trembling with pain and anger. He didn't seem to notice. "The Silver Hand. They finally found enough courage to attack Jorrvaskar. We fought them off, but… The old man… Kodlak… he's dead…"

I swallowed the biggest lump my throat had ever felt and hugged myself weakly, staring at the scars riddling my arms. "Was anyone else hurt?" My voice cracked with every syllable. I forced my eyes shut to tamper down the threat of impending tears, to no avail. I suddenly felt like scum, standing here in this hall of brave, courageous warriors. It made me feel as if I didn't belong, a sniveling little girl who can't take death well.

"No., but they made off with all our fragments of Wuuthrad. But you and I are going to reclaim them. We will bring the battle to their chief camp. There will be none left living to tell their stories. Only the songs of Jorrvaskar will be sung. We will avenge Kodlak. And they will know terror before the end." His voice grew thick with vengeance as he went to prepare himself. I shakily stumbled down the steps, past Kodlak's body, and down towards the Whelp Rooms. I stumbled blindly towards Farkas' room and fell in a heap into his warm bed. I sobbed pathetically into the blankets, cocooning myself in them.

_**Mkay, no more spoilers. :D I'm not gonna go into detail about the next quests. Bleh. Too much research. I've been done with the Companion's quests for a long time lol. it's too much work to go find the scenes I need on Youtube.**_

XXXXX

I'm not sure when I fell asleep. All I know is that I awoke to the comforting embrace of Farkas. I peeled open my eyes and looked tiredly up at my scruffy lover and buried my small body into his large frame. His arms tightened around me as he rubbed my back. He waited until I was composed to kiss my head and whisper gently in my ear, "Why are you so upset over his death, love?"

Leave it to him to ask so bluntly. I almost smiled. Almost. I squirmed until I was on my back, and I stared up at the dark ceiling. "He was my grandfather… He didn't know, but he was…"

Farkas just stroked my hair, silently urging me to tell him more. I closed my eyes softly, whispering the secrets my father had told me as bedtime stories. "Momai, my grandmother who was a Nord, worked as a maid in the Jarl before Balgruuf's palace. Kodlak had noticed her and she said he instantly fell head over heels for her. But, she was being sent to Daggerfall soon. Her sister who lived there was deathly ill, you see… Well, Kodlak came for her in the middle of the night, on the 30th of Frostfall, and snatched her up. My father told me they had run to the stables and Kodlak bought the fastest horse they had, and they road nonstop to Riften. They got married an hour later, and spent a day and a half honeymooning at the inn… A few days later, she travelled back home with a heavy heart. Soon, she decided she was with child, and the day her sister finally slipped into the embrace of Sovngarde, Momai gave birth to a son, my father. She named him Niruka, but she soon found she was ill with the same ailment her sister had. Papa was eleven years old when Momai died, too old to be sent to an orphanage. So, he took up a job working on a farm, and he fell in love with the farm-owner's daughter, the Breton Narki. They were married five years later and had me… Papa told me this story every night until I was 10…"

Farkas listened patiently and held me tighter as I finished. He stroked my hair gently. "So, why did you come here? To know Kodlak?"

I smiled faintly and shook my head. "No. Getting stuck in Skyrim was never my intention." I took a shaking breath and nestled closer to the big brute. "I wasn't accepted by the kids in Daggerfall because I was half-bred, and Niruka and Narki took up drinking and skooma when they saw how I was treated. They got messed up in a very bad deal with a fat, pompous Argonian named Koka-Shei, and to pay off their debts… They offered up their 15 year old daughter because who else would take her?" I chuckled weakly. "I didn't want to be married, so I ran… Unfortunately, I was caught and thrown in jail for three years because I had stolen so much. When I was shipped back to my family, Koka-Shei threw me in his cellar and abused me for four weeks until I managed to escape… I ran all the way to Skyrim where the border patrol caught me and sent me to get my head chopped off."

Farkas nodded softly before light exploded on my darkened world. I growled at the blistering pain behind my eyes as Vilkas huffed, "We're leaving. Get ready," and slammed the door shut again. I flinched internally and let Farkas help me out of bed, brushing my hair for me. He carried my bag for me and gently slipped his arm around my shoulders, holding me close as we walked up the stairs to the doors. Aela and Vilkas waited impatiently for us before they ran out the door. I slipped onto Farkas' back and let him run after them, covering my eyes with my hood. I once again slipped into the void of sleep.

_**Review? X.x this really took a long time to finish… Meh. I'm officially gonna be a sophomore though! WOO! Anywho, I hope the thing about Kodlak being my granddad wasn't too annoying. E.e I was thinking Kodlak was like 50-60 so he and the grandma would have had to have been teenagers, and then the parents would have had to be teenagers… Plus, it is that time period where people get hitched at 13. Lol. **_


	9. Marry

_**Mkay, so, this fanfiction is starting to bug me, and I need a side project. If anyone likes the way I'm writing, send me a prompt and I can write another story. I've played like 400 games since I've been born, and I've seen a TON of movies, so there's a good chance I might know what you're talking about. But, fair warning, I only know these anime shows: Inuyasha, Bleach, One Piece, Naruto, Vampire Knight, Blood +, Air Gear, Death Note, and Devil May Cry. I'm also a major LOTR nerd, so if it's a movie/show like that, I don't think I'll have any trouble. I can write as a man, as well, and I have no problem with gay stuff. **_

_**NO Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, or stuff like that. Doctor Who and Merlin are epically amazing. :D Review please. **_

The run to the Silver Hands' hide out was unnervingly quiet. Neither of my lovers, nor the stick-up-her-ass-huntress spoke to me. I let them go ahead, their weapons drawn, and I slowed to a walk, following their tracks. By the time I got to the hold, they had cleared it out. I didn't search the dead this time, just collected the fragments of Wuuthrad and scoured the chests that were scattered about the place. They were waiting for me when I was done, but they were all talking quietly amongst themselves. They looked up as I closed the door behind me, and I instantly was overwhelmed with self-consciousness. I rubbed my arm weakly. "I uhm… I know a way to cure Kodlak's soul…" I quietly explained it to them, looking down at the fresh snow beneath my feet.

Reluctantly, they agreed to escort me to Ysgramor's tomb, and again, I let them get ahead of me. not even Farkas spared me a glance. _'Be brave, Celia… After this, you can set out and not have to come back for years if you want… But, Kodlak's soul be damned if even a single tear fall from your ugly little eyes.'_

It took us about three hours to get there, and it didn't even take an hour to clear out the drougers and spiders and whatnots. Vilkas had stayed behind, claiming he wasn't the sort for vengeance, but I knew he just didn't want to be with me. I didn't push the issue. Farkas excused himself at the first sign of frostbite spiders, and even though I myself suffered terribly from arachnophobia, I didn't call him on it. Aela didn't bother giving me an excuse not to keep going. She knew I knew she hated me just because I wouldn't accept her beast blood. I nearly lost myself when we found Kodlak's soul waiting for us. He patted my shoulder softly as he looked at me after explaining what Ysgramor's tomb really stood for—a place for the souls of Companions who weren't ready to go to the Hunting Grounds—and looked at me with sad eyes. "Child, I'm sorry I can't be there to be your grandfather…" He put his hand up to stop my questions. "Yes, I knew. You look just like she did, except for your eyes. I want you to know that I'm proud of you. You have proven to be the bravest, most reliable Companion we've had for years. I want you to take my place as Harbinger."

Tears welled in my eyes and choked me softly. I nodded and bit my lip hard, looking down. I followed his instructions to throw the witch's head into the flames. Aela just watched as I took down Kodlak's wolf spirit, and Kodlak patted my cheek gently as he disappeared. "Thank you, Grandaughter."

My heart cracked as his spirit disappeared and I stared at the wall for a solid minute until Aela spoke, her voice thick with disgust. "Let me be the first to call you Harbinger."

I growled softly and glared at her, imagining a dozen different ways to kill her—chop her head off, poison her, suffocate her in her sleep, etc—before I walked off. I made my way to the exit and walked right past Vilkas and Farkas, running to land-level once I was out of their view. I didn't stop once I felt the frozen, solid dirt beneath my feet. My strides widened, my legs pumped me faster, harder as my eyes misted over. I bit my tongue to keep from letting them spill over, trembling softly. The back of my throat quickly became rough and cold as my breath ravaged the sensitive skin, and it didn't take long for my legs to gain the same burn. I collapsed in an old Troll cave, trembling both from cold and pain. I curled up tightly, staring into the sky. It was stupid to feel this way. After all, I had known Farkas and Vilkas couldn't both be mine… But losing them both had never occurred to me. I closed my eyes tightly, scratching weakly at the skin over my heart as if it could soothe the burning itch that laid beneath. I didn't know something could hurt this bad… like having your soul ripped in half then ripped from your body completely. I pulled a bedroll from my bag and crawled into it, praying for sleep to take me.

XXXXXX

When I woke, my entire body was under the bedroll, even my head. I pushed my way out and stuffed it into my bag, looking around. I coughed and stood up, stumbling to the nearest seaside. I sat down, washing the scum from my hands and face before I pulled out my map and tried to pinpoint my location. I decided I was at Bleakcoast Cave, because I could still see the College of Winterhold. I smiled weakly. That put me within an hour of the Serpent Stone. I stood, my hand gripping Wuuthrad tightly as I set off.

The next few hours passed in a blur. I made my way to the Stone, killed the ice wraith easily enough, and set off for Windhelm. I dropped my bag in the War Room and walked over to Galmar who looked up in surprise. "You're alive! I owe Ulfric a drink. I have to admit, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again. I misjudged you. You're definitely Stormcloak material. It's time we made this official. Are you ready to take the Oath?"

I frowned slightly and rubbed my eyes. "What oath?"

He cleared his throat. "Before you're one of us, you must swear fealty to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, future High King of Skyrim. You must also pledge unswerving loyalty to your fellow Stormcloaks, to Skyrim, and to her people."

I nodded slightly, sitting down. "I'm ready to take the Oath, then."

He smirked. "That's the spirit. By swearing this oath you become one of us. A hero of the people. A true daughter of Skyrim. A Stormcloak. Now, repeat after me. 'I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak…"

I bit my tongue. "I do swear my blood and honor to the service of.. Ulfric Stormcloak…" His name felt strange on my tongue. Foreign. As if it was too regal to be spoken by someone like me. But, it undoubtedly felt nice to say. I mentally smacked myself. _'Stoppit. He's Jarl and High King. Don't you even dare get your hopes up again…'_

"…Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim."

"Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim." I rubbed my eyes. It seemed dumb to break those up, as if he was worried I couldn't remember it all.

"As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond…"

"As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond." This was getting boring.

"…Even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms."

"Even to my lord as to my fellow sisters and brothers in arms." I smiled slightly. I believed women should always come before men, no matter the context.

"All hail the Stormcloaks, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim!"

I rolled my eyes. "All hail the Stormcloaks, the true daughters and sons of Skyrim."

He relaxed. "Now you're one of us. Which means you get to tag along on a little trip with me. oh, and here. You're a Stormcloak now, you ought to look the part." He shoved the blue cuirass of a Stormcloak soldier into my arms and I just looked at it. When he turned away, I set it down, content with my own armor. He explained that we were to set out the next day to find the legendary Jagged Crown.

Jorleif showed me to the room I slept in the last time, and I set my stuff down. I laid on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking long and hard. I would send a letter to the Companions, explaining that I couldn't stay with them and that Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas would decide who should be Harbinger. I would send the remaining witch's heads with the courier, in case they decided to cleanse themselves…

"It's no use…" I sighed weakly. "Divines, what should I do?"

XXXXXX _**Note: I apologize for the time skip, but I desperately need to start getting along with my summary before I lose all patience with my own story. Sorry, sorry, SORRY! T^T""" **_

"Dragonborn, I will make short work of our lesson today." Arngeir looked up at me from his book. It had been three years since my last confrontation with the twins. Skyrim was in Ulfric Stormcloak's pocket, and so was I even if he was unaware of to what extent. Alduin had been defeated a short few months after I had taken the Oath.

I sat beside my master, looking at him patiently. I folded my legs under me and rested my hands on my knees, completely relaxed. He proceeded, setting his book aside. "As the Dragonborn, you are aware that you are an idol for the people of Skyrim. That means you must be a model citizen yourself."

I nodded again. "I try my best, Master Arngeir. I have abstained from joining the Thieves Guild as well as the Dark Brotherhood… What else must I do?"

He patted my hand. "You must marry."

'_Marry.' _The word echoed in my mind and my palms became cold and clammy. I clenched them into fists and shook my head. "I can't do that. I made an oath to myself."

Arngeir frowned. "Celia. The people have lost all respect for the sanctity of marriage."

"Then why don't _you_ get married? Or one of the other Brothers? The people of Skyrim still respect the word of the Greybeards!"

He shook his head gently. "My brothers and I have taken vows against marriage. It interferes with our Way."

I gaped at him. "You're a bloody hypocrite!"

He frowned at me. "If you do not find a suitable husband or wife by the next year, you will be stripped of your title and banished from High Hrothgar."

I stared blankly at him and looked away. "I will never forgive you for this, Arngeir…"

He stood and turned away. "So be it." He strode away from me and out of my sight. I stared blankly at the wall, hugging my knees to my chest tightly. I stayed like that for at least an hour before I went to my quarters and packed my travel gear. I left without saying goodbye, and walked out the back doors. I looked up at the stars and decided which way was northeast. I walked to that side of the mountain and looked down before I grinned and took off running down the steep, rocky, treacherous slope.

I made it to the bottom with no problem and set off for Windhelm. It took me about a day to arrive, and I was greeted with raised mugs and a loud cheer. I smiled and looked around for Ulfric. Jorleif stood from the table and walked to me. "The Jarl has retired for the evening. You had best do the same to prepare for tomorrow."

I rubbed my eyes. "What's tomorrow?"

He frowned. "Did the courier not find you in time?" I shook my head and he sighed. "Tomorrow, the Jarls are convening to decide who will take the throne as High King of Skyrim. They've decided three years is already too long to wait, not a moment more will be spared. Jarl Ulfric has requested for you to be present at this occasion."

"Why is he not taking Galmar?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I believe they had a spat. But, no matter. You must sleep and prepare."

I smiled slightly and nodded. I walked over to the table, greeting everyone I passed and grabbed a sweetroll. I walked through the war room and through the door that lead to Ulfric's quarters. I stopped just before the last set of stairs that led to his room and turned left. I slipped through the door into the second largest bedroom in the palace. The first, of course, was Ulfric's. And Galmar's was only about two square feet smaller than mine, but he had lost it in a poker game against me. I set my travelling bag down and breathed in the smoky scent of my true home, sighing in contentment. I looked at the letters piled up on my desk and sighed. "Tomorrow."

Striding over to the king-sized bed adorned with the finest Argonian black silk sheets and a throw made of the softest furs I could find stitched together, I sat down and smiled gently. I had long since become accustomed to the chill of the palace, actually coming to welcome it. I kicked off my boots and stripped my Thief armor off. Even though I was not a member of the Guild, I was often chased after by thieves coming to claim my fortunes. I decided I liked their clothing and took it off a slain thief. It suited me well.

Laying back against my pillows, I pulled the blanket over me and curled up, my eyes drifting shut.

XXXXX

Sleep came and went, and with the morning came busy-ness. The servants were preparing Ulfric's carriage and travel stuff, and those who weren't doing that were preparing breakfast for us. I decided to leave my armor behind and dressed in Fine clothes that showed off my…assets. I laced my boots up and walked down to the throne room, humming gently.

"Is she here, Jorleif?"

I blinked and tilted my head, hearing my King's voice. I slipped into the shadows of the War Room as Ulfric and Jorleif walked in. They didn't notice me, of course. No one ever did unless I wanted them to. I watched as Ulfric looked at the table in front of him. "Yes, sire. Celia arrived late last night and went to bed. I explained what she can expect today."

Ulfric nodded and sat down. "Good, good. Did she look well?"

"Yes, Sire, I suppose she did."

"Good… I want her to be my queen, Jorleif. I intend to propose at dinner once the moot is over." My heart stopped and jumped to my throat. A deep blush filled my cheeks as I leaned back against the wall. I stared at him, biting my lip softly while a small grin found its way to my lips. It was no secret that I loved Ulfric. Everybody in Skyrim knew it. Apparently, I had gotten drunk at one of our dinners and proclaimed my love followed by a very deep kiss. Needless to say, I fled from Windhelm for a good month before returning, blushing. No one spoke of it to my face, but word of my actions had spread across the countryside within a matter of days. Gossip. Ugh.

"Sire, that's excellent news! I'm sure she will accept!" I was sure if Jorleif didn't have such a giant sword up his ass, he would have squealed in delight and clapped his hands like a giddy schoolgirl. I almost giggled at the thought, but caught myself.

Someone poked his head in the door, probably a servant, and cleared his throat. "Jarl Ulfric, we require your assistance at the stables. Your horse refuses to wear her harness."

Ulfric sighed and stood. "I will be there momentarily. Jorleif, I want you to oversee the meal preparations for Celia and I on our travels. Last time, they gave us nothing but horse jerky. She was very displeased."

Jorleif chuckled and walked off, Ulfric following close behind. I sat in the shadows for a good long moment before my grin widened. I waited until there was no chance that either of the men were near the war room, and I ran back to my room to squeal and tell my torchbugs about it. Don't be judging now. They're hardy creatures and very easy to take care of. All they need is fresh grass once a week and the air holes on their jar to not be blocked. I was also a very lonely woman.

Remembering my stack of letters, is ighed and sat down to read them. A source of power in Angarvunde, a kidnapped person, a need for a person assassinated. I tossed the last one and looked at the very large letter sitting in front of me. I tilted my head slightly and began reading. Instantly, I regretted it. I dropped the papers and stared at my door before I looked at the bugs. "Fred, Wilma, John, why can't anything go right for just a week?"

They just continued flying around, flashing their lights. I sighed weakly and reread the letter.

_Celia,_

_ The Companions are falling apart without our true Harbinger to give us guidance. All of our new whelps die off, and Aela has been dealt a bad hand. The Dark Brotherhood found her, and she hunts Hircine's Hunting Grounds with Skjor. Farkas and I are in over our heads, trying to carry out the work that comes in to us. We have become no better than lost pups. Please, return to us. Help us bring the Companions back to our former glory! _

_Vilkas._

I memorized his elegant script, sighing softly. The next letter was written in a scrawled, messy print that said, "I'm a simple man."

_Celia._

_Vilkas says stuff around here is getting hard. I suppose he's right. We need your help to make this place as good as it was before. It's quiet without Aela around. I like it. But, it's not fun without you. Three years is too long to hope that you come back. So I decided to come to you. I hear you stay at Windhelm. On the 27__th__ of Frostfall I will come to see you. Sorry if that is not good for you. _

_I still love you. Vilkas still does too even if he won't admit it._

_Farkas. _

I sighed weakly and put them down, standing up. I rubbed my eyes and packed my bag with my favorite books and Kodlak's journal. I went downstairs to the throne room and put on my smile. I was escorted to the stables by a pretty elven servant. I thanked her as she said her goodbyes, and I slipped a coin purse into her hands that contained 50 gold. I smiled at her and patted her hand before I looked at Ulfric. "What? No hello?" I huffed, shaking my head. "Tsk, tsk. So rude nowadays."

He chuckled and snatched me into a giant bear hug. I blushed softly and giggled, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"You stayed away too long, Celia. Arngeir really needs to learn how to share his protégés."

I smiled and nodded in agreement. We had to wait a few more minutes for our meal packs to get to us. He put them up in the front of our carriage before he picked me up and put me in the carriage. I rolled my eyes. "You really don't have to do that, blondie. I'm Dragonborn, you know. Quite capable of getting in a carriage by myself."

He smiled and jumpe din beside me. "Now, now, I just didn't want any perverts trying to get a peek up your gown."

"Mhm. Sure. _That's_ totally it." I leaned back, smiling at him. "So, King Ulfric, how long is this ride gonna take?"

"A good two days. We are convening in Markarth."

I sighed. "Joy."

"Indeed."

Our driver snapped the reins, and the horses pulled off easily. The first day passed in easy companionship, full of jokes and stories and laughs. We stopped to make camp just as the sun was falling, having a large tent for the two of us to share, and a tent cover for the driver to put over the back of the carriage. He preferred it that way. We made a large fire, and after the driver retired for the night, I found myself staring into the flames, thinking hard about the issues of the day. Ulfric nudged me gently. "What's on your mind, Firefly?"

I smiled gently at the nickname. He had given it to me when he discovered my talent for fire destruction magic and my blacksmithing talent. I leaned into his warm embrace, laying my head on his shoulder. "Arngeir says I must find a husband by the next frostfall ((((I'm treating them as years. I haven't fully understood how Skyrim time works. e.e so meh.)))) or I will be banished from High Hrothgar and they will strip my title as Dragonborn…"

"Did you tell him about the oath to yourself?"

"Yes, of course I did… But he said it didn't matter. And then, I asked him why one of the Brothers couldn't do it since the people of Skyrim still listen to them, but you know what he said? He said, "My brothers and I have taken vows against marriage. It interferes with our Way." And he got all snippy when I called him a hypocrite…"

Ulfric sighed softly. "Perhaps you may find someone you would break your vow for. I will help you to the best of my ability."

I smiled gently up at him and I kissed his cheek. I looked back at the fire before I closed my eyes. "There's one more thing… Farkas is coming on the 27th… Vilkas will probably come with him…"

Ulfric said nothing, holding me tightly to him. He kissed my head gently. I nestled closer to him, shivering from the cold. He smiled gently and scooped me up. I squealed in surprise and flailed my arms and legs. "Lemme go!"

He chuckled and shook his head, carrying me to the tent. He plopped me down on his bedroll which was on a thick pile of hay for comfort. I squeaked and giggled, blushing softly. He laid beside me and pulled the pelts over us, hugging me tightly. I rolled my eyes, looking up at him. "You know, if I didn't know any better, Mr. High King, I would say you enjoy my company a little too much."

He just chuckled and yawned. "You're imagining things, Firefly." He ruffled my hair before closing his eyes. I watched as he fell asleep, his breath evening out. I squirmed in between his arm and his side and rested my arm on his chest, laying my head on his shoulder. I smiled softly. A girl could get used to this.

_**Review, maybe? Please let me know what other stories I should start. Send me some prompts if you want. Give. Me. something. To. Write. X_X"PLEASE.**_


	10. Party

_**Ok, this one is kinda short, but I feel obligated to get something online. But meh. Review please? And let me know if anyone wants a special story. ALSO! Thank you for the reviews ^^ It made me happies. **_

Our arrival in Markarth was several hours earlier than we had anticipated. We pulled up to the stables around three in the afternoon, when the "first gathering" was meant to be at 7. I yawned and looked lazily up at the sky as Ulfric emptied our bags from the carriage. When he was done and his back was turned to me, I smirked and stood, silently tiptoeing closer to him. The small Breton boy glanced at me and I touched my finger to my lips, grinning slyly. He turned his attention back to what Ulfric was saying about where our bags were to be delivered, and just as Ulfric was handing him his coin, I pounced, attaching myself to his back like a knapsack. He yelped in surprise—a rare thing indeed, and I giggled in triumph. "Victory is mine!"

He growled in agitation and tried to peel my legs away. He grumbled as I tightened my grip to its full not-bone-breaking extent. He grumbled softly, holding my ankles as he finished giving his directions to the boy. I giggled and laid my head against his, silently breathing in his snow-berry sweet scent. Once the boy slipped behind us to get our bags, Ulfric begrudgingly started towards the doors to the city. "You know, for being such a strong and heroic girl, you barely weigh a pound."

I giggled and leaned back, sticking my arms out with my fists up in the air. I flexed my invisible muscles and giggled. "I'm just amazing like that."

He chuckled softly, and I dutifully slipped from his back as we reached the gate. The High King couldn't look so informal, after all. Instead, I slipped my itty bitty hand into his large, calloused one and I interlocked our fingers. He gripped my hand gently and kissed my head. "We will be holding the Moot tomorrow night. Tonight, we will be partying. So go have fun and I will see you at seven o'clock in the Keep."

I pouted softly but nodded. I stretched up, wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug before I slipped off to visit Ghorza. We worked and talked together until well into the evening. Finally, around six, she yawned widly. I smiled and patted her shoulder. "Go home, friend. I'll clean up." She smiled gratefully and gave me a squeeze before she set off for the Keep. I smiled as I watched her go, putting everything back. It wasn't until 6:40 something to realize I was completely coated in sweat. I whined softly and sighed, looking around. I quickly ran to the trading post and bought some tavern clothes. I held them away from my slick skin as I went towards the waterfall. I threw them onto the docks near the Warrens and dove into the water. I groaned in relief under the water as the grime was washed away from my body, carrying the heat that had been clinging to my skin all afternoon. I stayed under for a few minutes before I promptly jumped out, grabbed the clothes, and hid behind the smelter. I peeled off my clothes and struggled into the new, tight-fitting dress. I ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to comb through the tresses, grumbling softly. "Should have kept my damn purse…"

The sun completely disappeared behind the wall of the city, signing the lateness of the hour. I growled softly under my breath and tugged my sopping shoes off. I left everything out to dry near the forge before I ran for the Keep. I grumbled as I ran, idly wondering why I wanted to be perfectly on time. Ulfric knew I always tried my hardest to be where I needed to be when I needed to be there, so why would this loosen-up party be so bad? As I ran, I caught my reflection in a reflecting pool and instantly cringed. I stopped and stared at my quickly curling hair, frowning. My makeup was smeared and my clothes were wet from my hair. I sighed and looked down at Calcemo's work area where sounds of laughter drifted out. I made my way up the stone stairs towards Calcemo's lab. The wizard had been sent off to investigate some ruins in Elswir and wouldn't be back for some time. Ulfric and I had been given his room until we decided to leave.

I peeked through the door to make sure no one was there before I slipped inside. I found my bag and dug through it, finding my comb. I furiously raked it through my curls, grumbling quietly as I rubbed a solution into my hair that tamed my friz and reduced my infuriating ringlets into smooth, manageable waves. I scrubbed my makeup off and quickly applied it back on, humming quietly so I didn't freak myself out. I pulled on a pair of fur shoes, pouting softly as I realized my real height again. I instantly wished I could go back down to Ghorza's smithy and grab my sopping shoes so I could have that extra six inches. I coughed softly and looked at myself in a reflecting pool again until I decided I looked ok. I shakily stepped out towards Calcemo's work area and towards my Jarl, my best friend, and my would-be lover.

I was hit with a wave of extraordinarily enticing scents the second I stepped over the threshold into the large domed room. I smelled sweetrolls, seared slaughterfish, venison chops, everything I could possibly name. I stopped in the shadows and watched as Ulfric laughed his booming, extra rare laugh and clapped Idgrod on the back. They continued to talk about something I couldn't quite hear and I smiled gently. I surveyed the table, trying to figure out who the missing Jarls were. Of course Elisif wouldn't be sitting at the table and conversing with Ulfric. Even though the beautiful young thing had been married not even a full two years after Ulfric shouted High King Torryg—Elisif the Fair's husband—to death, Elisif still found it too difficult to forgive Ulfric. But, on top of the young acting queen's absence, Jarl Laila was also absent. I couldn't say I was upset. It was no secret that Laila and Ulfric had a thing a while back. Even if he said it was over, I still feel the green hand of jealousy every time I see her.

"So, Ulfric. Where is the Dragonborn? She's been living in your palace, correct?"

I blinked upon hearing my nickname and looked towards the table. Ulfric turned his attention from Idgrod and looked to Skald. He smiled gently and spoke with his deeply accented speech that sent shivers up my spine. "She has. If I were to guess, I would say she is probably stalking about the shadows right now, listening in. She's very rarely ever truly late."

Skald smirked. "No one can sneak up on me, old boy." It was like he was begging me to do it. Just before I went to take a step towards him through the shadows, my foot hovered above the ground, blinking. "Is she still a whore? I heard she had six lovers a few years back. I tell you, I'd like me a piece of tha-"

Ulfric stood quickly, turning his chair back—quite a feat since it was solid stone and at least as big as he was—and grabbed Skald by the throat, lifting him above the ground. Everybody stopped to stare at my king, mouths agape, some even spilling food from them. The minstrels stopped playing and stared at them in surprise the room went eerily silent, and I could almost hear every heartbeat of Skald's. Ulfric stared hardly into the other Jarl's eyes, his own gaze steamed and hard. "Jarl Skald, I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut before I rip your tongue out of your throat. Celia is a strong, beautiful, honorable woman who has saved all our lives countless times. Show her some gratitude and respect. Damn dog." Ulfric released the struggling old man and put his chair back upright. He took his seat, and within seconds, the chatter and laughter filled the air again. I blushed softly and stood there a moment longer, confused whether to be upset by the rumors floating around Skyrim, or happy because my love stood up for my honor.

All too quickly, I could sense someone's gaze trying to pick me out of the shadows, and I bit my lip. I silently tiptoed back out of the room and counted to thirty before I reentered. I wanted to look flustered, but it wasn't difficult. I was indeed extraordinarily confused. I smiled brightly at everyone, greeting my friends. I made a point to greet Skald with a kiss to the cheek in hopes that everyone would think I didn't hear a thing. I sat in Ulfric's lap and hugged his neck, unabashed by the looks everyone was giving. While my head was near his, I whispered softly into his ear, "Thank you…" just before I kissed his cheek again.

He looked knowingly at me and stroked my cheek, a gentle smile on his lips just for me. I smiled back at him before turning around, my back against his broad chest as I snagged the nearest sweet. I nibbled on it, slowly losing myself in the laughter, jokes, and conversation. Skald didn't try to talk to me.

XXXXX

The party went on until well into the wee hours of the morning. During the evening, many of the Jarls retired until it was just Ulfric and I, Idgrod and his wife, and Jarl Dengheir and his daughter. We were all still totally wasted, but somehow we decided to retire for the evening. When I went to stand, I stumbled and laughed before Ulfric scooped me up in his huge arms. I blushed and giggled, wiggling my fingers to the others in a girlish wave as he carried me to our room. He sat me on our bed—yes, we were sharing a bed, and yes, I was in complete heaven over the idea—and sat beside me. I looked at him, giggling as the world rocked and swayed with every beat of my heart. I hiccupped before I grinned deviously at him and I tackled him back into the mattress. He yelped softly in surprise before he smiled. I grinned more before I ducked my head down, pressing my lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. It took him only a moment to wrap his arms around me and flip me over, kissing back. I blushed more as I looked up at him and I giggled drunkenly. I touched his cheek, looking deep into his greenblue eyes, biting my lip. "I lovesh you, Ul-*hic*-fric Shtormcloak. I alwaysh hash ever since H-*hic*-elgen."

He smiled gently and kissed me again. "I know, my love. And I'm sorry…"

I giggled again before the world went completely dark as I slipped into drunken unconsciousness.

I awoke sometime around noon to a fresh pitcher of water beside my bed along with a potion to ease my pounding headache. I gladly downed both of them before I looked around. When I sat up, I realized that my dress was gone, but my undergarments were not. I rubbed my eyes, trying to recall if I had taken them off. _'I guess Ulfric did it…'_ I had told him that I slept in my small clothes, after all… I blushed at the thought of sleeping next to my hulking king and smiled gently. I could smell him on me—the fresh scent of snowberries and mountain flowers.

The second the potion took its effect, I stood to get dressed. I stumbled as clouds hid my vision for a moment, something that had been occurring since I was a child. Iron deficiency, you see. I waited patiently for it to pass before looking around for my clothes. I dug through my bags, looked near the fire, but for the life of me could not find any trace of any of my dresses. I frowned softly before I noticed the note under my pillow, and I sat down to read it. I recognized Ulfric's strong, bold, beautiful letters instantly and I smiled softly.

_My Darling Celia,_

_ Upon your awakening, you will note that your clothes are no longer amongst your things. Do not fear. Ring the bell near the door, and a girl will come to dress you. I would deeply appreciate it if you would wear the dress she brings you. I look forward to seeing you in it. _

_Then, after you are dressed, I would ask your attendance to the "meeting hall" be granted me. I have prepared a private feast for us and two others. Do not run away. _

_With the Deepest Love a Nord can Experience,_

_Ulfric._

I frowned softly, rereading it again. I sighed and rubbed my eyes, looking for the damned bell. I rang it twice and waited for the girl. I heard a knock at the door and turned around, looking at her. I blinked and blushed softly as I took in the gown she held in her arms. I smiled gently and took it from her. "He certainly knows how to spoil a girl…"

I dismissed her, thanking her for helping and I slipped some coin into her hand. I looked at the gown and grinned softly, slipping it on. I shivered gently at the feel of the silk garment. I could feel how the deep red would make my eyes pop and my skin look lighter, and knew that if I even thought about ducking or sitting down, the entire world would see my small clothes. I purred gently—a habit I picked up my time spent with the Kahjit—as I admired the way the sleeves belled at the end, completely hiding my hands while making me feel more elegant. The bottom was cut in a way that made it look like tatters, just the way I like my clothes, and the bodice was skin tight but completely comfortable. It had a deep V that went down to my belly button, and I smiled gently, closing my eyes. The back was completely open, except for the laces which twined from the top to bottom of my back.

I felt sexy.

The girl returned with my freshly dried boots and slipped back out before I could thank her. I laced them up before I headed for the "meeting hall". I frowned softly the closer I got, my ears twitching at the voices. They were the voices of strangers, but I knew them oh so well. I bit my tongue hard, clenching my fists. _'Ulfric, you son of a bitch…'_

I stepped into the cavern, staring at the three men sitting at the table.

"Hello, Celia," said the twin Companions in complete unison.

I glared daggers at Ulfric. Before they could say another word, I turned on my heel and ran out into the city, through the gates, and onto the back of a random horse. I snapped the reigns and took off into the wilderness of Skyrim, tears misting my eyes.


	11. Rain

_**This chapter is dedicated to Shrimpeater^^. …Unless it turns out crappy, then it's dedicated to everyone who doesn't read this. :D Lol. I also hope he/she (I think she?) finds it acceptable. :D Maybe. Hopefully. **_

_**Ok, guys, listen up. This is going to be a confusing-ish chapter, but bear with me. For the most part, this will be in third person because Shrimpy said it would be cool. I agreed, but sticking with just Celia chilling in the wilderness can get really. Really. Really boring. ^^ So, hopefully this works out to be awesome and totally long, because I think this will come to a close rather soon. Please review and offer me story suggestions! :D Please? **_

Ulfric watched the Dragonborn leave, and his heart clenched slightly. The younger brother, Farkas, stood and started after the girl, but the smart brother grabbed his hand. "Let her go…" he said.

Farkas looked at his brother, trembling slightly. If he were any less of a man, he would have started crying like he had when the letter had arrived from Celia telling them all she would never be back. He reached into his pocket self-consciously and clutched the extraordinarily worn piece of paper. Sometimes, he truly believed his brother didn't care for Celia and he truly did only want her back so they had a Harbinger to guide them. Vilkas and Farkas both knew Celia would not be leader material, though, so if Vilkas didn't care for Celia as a lover, then why was he here? He continued to watch his intelligent brother, trying to understand his reasoning for agreeing to this meeting.

Vilkas leaned forward in his seat, looking at Jarl Ulfric. Farkas leaned back as he watched, frowning slightly. "Do you really think she would break her oath for you?"

Farkas frowned in confusion. What oath? He looked at his brother who barely glanced at him. The blond leaned back, taking up his gangster throne pose. "No, but it is worth a shot. I know she is desperate to be loved, to have someone be there for her when she's too overwhelmed. I want her to stand by my side as High Queen because she is strong and brave and because I love her."

Farkas growled mentally. Out of all the people at this table, he was most likely the only one who truly loved the girl. The others had reasons to keep her around. Farkas wasn't smart enough to find a reason for her other than just being with her.

"You must not have shown it well, then. From what I hear, you haven't kissed her in public, most likely haven't had sex, and although you let her hang about you, you do not loosen up around her." Vilkas looked as though he were about to explode. He felt like it too. How dare this stupid, self-obsessed man sit there and act as though he and Celia were just made to be!

"Love is not about physicality, you dimwit. It's intellectual as well."

Vilkas glanced at Farkas. That ruled him out then. Farkas sensed the look and looked back, frowning. "If you both love her so much, why are we having this meeting without her? It's her decision too, right?" Farkas looked at the other two men.

Vilkas frowned. Ulfric shifted his position to the left. He had a point. Neither of them could deny it. "Because, she couldn't look you both in the eye. She still feels as though you two hate her. As though she no longer belongs with the Companions. She was scared when she received your letter, Vilkas. She told me so herself." Ulfric looked at the smart brother, his eyes narrowed.

"If she were truly scared, then why would she have agreed to meet with us? Surely, she would have told you not to send the courier to invite us here if that were the case," challenged Vilkas.

Ulfric looked at his place and cut a small piece of venison chop. "She didn't know. I sent the courier for you after we arrived and split up. I must say, it was worth the coin for how quickly he must have arrived at Jorrvaskar for the pair of you to travel here within a day." Ulfric stood. "Go rest, gentlemen, for now I must convince the jarls to postpone the Moot and wait for Celia to return."

"How do you know she'll be back?" Farkas looked at him, frowning gently.

Ulfric patted the simpleton's head. "Because, I understand her in ways neither of you ever will."

XXXXX

I trembled weakly as I pulled the horse to a stop. I slid off the saddle and sat down on the side of the Karth river, hugging my knees to my chest. How could Ulfric do that to me? The tears that had stuck in my eyes the entire ride finally spilled out. I dug my nails into the skin on my shins slightly as I buried my nose between my knees. I must have cried for at least half an hour.

Usually, about now, any other girl would be wishing that one or more of the men that waited for me in the "meeting hall" were dead, but that's not how I run. I sat there for an hour, staring into the rushing current of the water, watching salmon jump out in an attempt to get upstream. Instead of wishing others dead, I took a more…not selfish, but not selfless either…approach to it. If I had never been born, what would have happened and not have happened?

1. Alduin would never have been defeated. So what? The world was meant to end like, 500 years ago or something like that.

2. Most likely, the war would have turned the other way and the Stormcloaks would have fallen to the Empire.

3. Ulfric, Vilkas, and Farkas would never have met me and therefore would never have fallen in love with me. If they even were in love.

I sighed weakly and looked up at the sky. I leaned back and watched clouds for about an hour until the threatening boom of thunder shook me from my thoughts. I looked to the horizon and sighed weakly as I noted the quickly incoming storm clouds. I stood up and looked around for my horse, but to my dismay, he was nowhere to be seen. "Of course." I narrowed my eyes and sighed weakly, looking at my map quickly. I was at least two hours away from Markarth. That was assuming I didn't run into any trouble. There's no way that rain would wait for me, and I had long ago forgotten the Shout called Clear Skies. For shame.

I stuffed my map back into its pouch which was always attached to my shoes, and set off. The rain came about ten minutes after I left the river, and it was very unforgiving. Not only was it colder than snow because it soaked through my clothes and stuck to me, there was almost no break in between droplets. Within seconds of the beginning, I was absolutely drenched. I shivered horribly, hugging myself for warmth. I knew it would be best to ditch the dress, but I couldn't bear to part with it. Afterall. Ulfric had given it to me. Had it made for me. Had it delivered to me. In essence, he was sewn into it.

By the look of the sky, this rain would not be stopping for hours. My teeth were chattering, my fingers were blue, my feet were aching, and my hair was plastered to my face and back. Within an hour, my steps had turn from strides into stumbles. My vision was blurring and a headache was coming on. At the very first sign of a cave, I stumbled to it. I clutched a dagger tightly as I made sure I was the only person or creature there. It was one of those cliché caves with only one main cavern that wasn't very tall. Hell, the thing was barely more than a bigass rock settled on top of two smaller rocks, leaving a cubby hole opening. I'd take it.

I sat down and looked at my map, frowning softly as I tried to figure out where I was. I sighed weakly, not finding it, but I decided I was about halfway to the city. I leaned back, rubbing at my eyes before I ringed out my hair and dress, laying the fabric on a rock beside me. I watched the rain pour, frowning softly.

XXXXX

Ulfric folded his arms behind his back as he paced around his temporary quarters. He frowned, his brow creased with confusion and worry. She had been gone for nearly three hours, and it was raining relentlessly. He prayed she at least found shelter soon enough… He had managed to move the Moot up another day, but if Celia hadn't returned by then, then he feared she might never return. He finally growled and burst through the door, making his way to Idgrod's room. Every step was strong, calculated, and powerful.

He didn't knock as he pushed open the door. Idgrod looked up from his lunch and sighed. "You know, Ulfric, one of these days you're going to bust through here and I'm going to be in the middle of cavorting."

Ulfric didn't smile. He walked up to the other man and rested his palms on the table, leaning over to look him in the eyes. "She's been gone too long, Idgrod. It's time we sent out a search party. If she stays out there much longer I fear she may grow ill."

Idgrod sighed. "We can't risk the health of our own men, Ulfric. She'll just have to wait."

"That's unacceptable!" Ulfric smacked the table, standing back. He growled softly. "I will not stand idly by and let her risk herself!"

"That's your problem, brother. Not mine."

Ulfric growled and left the room, going to their room. He grabbed her pack—which seemed to withstand the trial of time, weather, and water—and stuffed kindling, a clean dress for her, food, and alcohol in it. He shouldered the bag, feeling odd because it had been so long since he had carried something himself. He sighed. _I'm so spoiled_, he thought. Shrugging it off, he stepped out of the Keep and stopped short at the top of the stairs where the rain began. It was almost as thick as a waterfall, and it was a wonder the entire city wasn't flooded yet. Lightning cracked brightly through the clouds, threatening him with the roaring clash of thunder. He sighed and plunged through the wall of water, instantly feeling its icy cold bite. He forced his way down the stairs and through the city, careful of slippery stone. He heaved open the city doors and stumbled towards the stables. '_A true Nord feels no cold,' _he thought.

The Jarl of Windhelm stepped inside the stables where the stable hands would be. He dropped a thousand septims on the desk. "I need a horse."

The horse man looked up at him and blinked. "By the Nine, Jarl Ulfric! There's not many would brave this storm. Surely you realize a horse wouldn't be able to survive this blasted storm for more than ten minutes. Maybe."

Ulfric added a hundred or so more septims to the pile. "Just give me the horse."

The stable hand nodded, but pushed back half the money. "He's already saddled up. Be careful out there, Jarl Ulfric. I'd like to see you become High King." The man sat back down, watching as Ulfric left the stables. The Jarl quickly found the horse and set about wrapping blankets around the beast, tucking hay beneath that. He took a broken bucket and tied it around the horse's head to keep the water out of the creature's eyes before he slid onto its back. He relaxed into the familiar feel of horseriding and clicked the reins against the horse's neck. The animal backed out of the stall and whinnied at the cold rain. Ulfric patted its neck and ushered it on, thinking. He closed his eyes, imagining a map of Skyrim. _She wouldn't go too far… And water. She'd be near water… _

Ulfric snapped the reins, leaning forward slightly so the horse would be able to run faster. It had no problem racing over the mud and across ice, and for that Ulfric was dearly grateful. He ran his horse to the various ponds laying around the landscape before he guided it toward the Karth River. "Celia!" he called. He ran the horse at least a mile in all directions the river flowed, calling his love's name. The rain picked up speed, and Ulfric found himself shivering despite his thick Nord skin. He growled softly to himself and started to head back to Markarth, muttering softly. "Damn it, Celia, you had better come back to me…"

XXXXXX

Farkas watched the sky as rain poured down. He always found something comforting and relaxing about rainfall. He figured the more rain there was, the more life would flourish in Skyrim, and that made him feel happy. But this rain gave him an uneasy feeling. He stepped back inside the Inn he and Vilkas were staying at, and slipped to their room. The mercenary sitting near the fire gave Farkas a look that made the big man suddenly very self-conscious of every move he made. He'd been known to dabble in love affairs of all genders and species, don't get him wrong, but he had never been the smaller man. Not only this, but Celia was the only thought that ran through the ex-wolf's mind. She had been ever since their consummation three years ago. Since she left, no bar wench or shop keeper could fill the void that Farkas constantly felt in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if Vilkas felt the same, but he knew his brother had probably not touched another living person in the gap in time Celia was gone.

Farkas nudged open the door to his and his brother's room, trying to be as quiet as possible. He went to his bed on the left side of the room and sat down, watching his big brother sleep soundly. He sighed weakly and hugged his knees. He couldn't remember the last time Vilkas had woken him up from whining in his sleep. He envied his brother a good night's sleep. True, Farkas had felt relaxed since he had defeated his beast form, but sleep still continued to evade him.

Vilkas turned on his side, facing his brother, and Farkas sighed gently. He stood and walked to the other bed, climbing in behind Vilkas. He leaned against the wall and gently pinched Vilkas' ear. The elder twin snorted and looked back at him with hazed eyes, frowning. "What? What is it?" he slurred. Farkas looked at Vilkas with sad eyes. The elder blinked tiredly and sat up. "Farkas? Did something happen?"

Farkas looked at his hands, shaking his head gently. "I have this bad feeling. The rain isn't right. It's making me sad." He looked at his brother who frowned and hugged him tightly.

Vilkas gently petted his brother's hair. "I'm sure it's nothing, Brother. The rain will pass and everything will be ok. I promise." Farkas nodded gently and Vilkas placed a soft kiss upon his forehead. "In the morning, we'll go see if Celia will come home with us and then we'll return to Jorrvaskar and drink ourselves stupid." He smiled gently.

Farkas nodded slightly and leaned closer to his brother. It was awkward, since Farkas was larger than Vilkas, but they had grown used to it. As long as they never acted like this with others around, they were ok with their arrangement. It was almost like they had never grown up and Farkas was still the stupid little kid who came home every day with bruises all over because he couldn't stay out of fights. Vilkas had always been there for him, and Farkas always ended up sleeping in Vilkas' bed with him. It always made Farkas feel better, like Vilkas was the only bit of home he had left. Farkas had always liked his father for the short time he was in their lives. When he had left, Farkas felt like the entire world was too exposed and frightening. There was very little that didn't scare him now that his protector was gone, but Vilkas had been hit worse. It took them a hot minute, but they finally came to an unspoken understanding. Farkas would be his father's brawn, while Vilkas would be their father's compassion and understanding. Farkas remembered every fight he got into because the other kids would pick on Vilkas. Say what they would about Farkas, he didn't care, but the second they went after his big brother…it was on like Donkey Kong.

Vilkas never fully understood how things came to be the way they were with his thick brother, but he appreciated it. He wasn't weak, not by a long shot, but Farkas was braver than he. He was sometimes too dumb to understand he needed to be afraid. He admired that about his brother. Farkas never overthought anything, whereas Vilkas was constantly calculating, estimating, and deciding. It grew tiring, but he could never turn his brain off. He watched his brother grow closer and snuggle into Vilkas' chest. He smiled softly and held him closer. He enjoyed being able to be here for Farkas. They needed each other. They were as close as close comes in a harsh world such as this. He gently laid back and held his brother tightly, closing his eyes as he thought.

"_Vilkas, I'm home." _

_Vilkas looked up from his book and gasped softly, dropping it. He stood and ran to his brother, who was dripping in blood and rain water. The big lug could barely stand, and Vilkas ushered him into a seat. He rushed to steal the healing potion Tilma kept in her "secret" trunk and rushed back to his brother. Currently, they were alone. (((Kodlak's still kinda young and Aela and Skjor aren't here yet, keep that in mind))) Kodlak had taken Vitor and Larburlag, the other two members of the circle, out into the world to show them the beauty of their realm, and everybody else had been sent on a mission. Except for Tilma. She had just been sent home to take care of her ailing mother. _

"_What happened, brother?" Vilkas handed Farkas the vial, sitting beside him. He gently began to cut off Farkas' shirt from behind, seeing as it was already ripped pretty well. _

_Farkas chugged the potion and weakly helped Vilkas. He looked down. "They were talking about you and Kodlak."_

_Vilkas sighed gently as he picked up a basin. He took Farkas out back and set him down in a chair, holding the basin out under the pouring rain. He pulled a rag from his pocket and went back to Farkas, gently wiping the blood away from the boy's face. He smiled gently at him, cupping his chin. He turned Farkas' face so he could look him in the eyes, kneeling to his level. "Listen to me, brother. I understand they make you upset by speaking poorly of us, but you mustn't take it to heart. Those who speak poorly of others are usually self-conscious, outcasts, and grow up to be nothing but horse shit scoopers." _

_Farkas chuckled slightly and nodded. Vilkas noted how smooth the boy's face was, and hugged him softly. They were only 16 or so, and Vilkas had had stubble for two years. Farkas didn't even have his first chest hair. The younger boy buried his head into Vilkas' neck. Vilkas hugged him tighter and kissed his head softly. Farkas sniffled slightly and looked up—Vilkas was taller, if skinnier—at his brother. Vilkas' heart cracked softly at the tears that were falling silently down his brother's cheeks. He held him tighter and rested his forehead against Farkas'. "It'll be ok, brother. Things will look up for us soon. Kodlak says he might be onto something. A way to cure our disease and then we can be free to go wherever we want and do whatever we want." _

_Farkas nodded ever so slightly and looked down, gripping Vilkas' hands tightly. "I love you, brother." He looked back up into Vilkas' eyes, and something stirred in their stomachs. Vilkas got the feeling Farkas may not have been talking about just brotherly love. (((This IS like… way before incest became illegal. And you can be gay in Skyrim… So… BLEH!))) _

_Vilkas closed his eyes gently and rubbed the smooth skin on Farkas' back. He smiled gently before he took his brother's hand and rested it over his own heart. "And I you, dummy." They chuckled softly before Vilkas stood, holding Farkas' hands in his. He made him stand out in the rain until the blood was washed away before he let him come inside. Vilkas greeted him with a warm towel, Farkas wrapped it around his shoulders and smiled before they descended down the stairs to their room. Neither of them knew why they still kept a room for their father. It was pretty obvious he would never come back, and everything in there did nothing but gather dust. _

_Farkas peeled off his soaked pants and laid them on the back of a chair, putting a basin under it. Vilkas blushed gently as he watched out of the corner of his eye, pretending to put his book back in its "rightful place". Farkas' skin was tan and taught, at least from the waist up. He was completely ripped for their age, and it suited him well. Vilkas had at least six inches on him, but he thought himself more sleek than Farkas. He rarely ate, so of course he was less fit than Farkas who could eat an entire ox in an hour. Vilkas had been witness to it only three weeks ago. He chuckled softly as he recalled the event._

_He put the book away and saw Farkas, looking utterly exhausted, trying to rub the water out of his hair. Vilkas smiled softly and walked over to him, taking the towel gently. He kneeled in front of Farkas and gently rubbed the towel through the boy's black locks. He leaned up slightly and let his hands drop around Farkas' shoulders, holding him in a loose hug as Vilkas rested his forehead atop Farkas' head. Farkas wrapped his arms around Vilkas' waist and looked up at his big brother. Vilkas gently bent his head a little closer, hugging himself a bit closer. Farkas, for once, understood what was going through his brother's head, and he leaned up, pressing their lips together softly. _

_XXXXX_

_Vilkas smiled gently as he watched his brother sleep. His ass hurt something fierce, but he didn't mind one bit. He gently brushed the hair from Farkas' eyes and pulled the blanket up tighter around them, laying down beside him. that night, they slept together as more than brothers. That ended up being the happiest night of Vilkas' life. _

_And then morning came._

_Vilkas awoke, not to the warm embrace of Farkas, but the freezing embrace of loneliness. He frowned gently, looking around before he inched his way out of bed and into clothes. Every movement hurt, but he still didn't mind. He limped up to through the entirety of Jorrvaskar, searching for Farkas, but he was nowhere to be found. He frowned softly and ate, looking out over the wall of the city at the beautiful landscape of Skyrim. Everything was a budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet. (((10 points and a cookie to anyone who can name what play the last 7 words of that sentence is from. NO CHEATING D:!))) _

_Farkas didn't return for three days. By then, Vilkas could walk almost normally, and the entire place had been scrubbed spotless—except for their father's room of course. When Farkas walked in, Vilkas brightened up considerably. He stood up and rushed to his brother's side, flinging his arms around his neck. "Gods above, brother, I've been so worried! Where have you been?" He leaned back and tried to meet Farkas' gaze, but the younger man wouldn't meet his eyes. Vilkas' heart cracked slightly and his pulse rose. His palm—the part over his thumb bone—began to burn like it did when his heart was going to break. (((that's really what happens to me. first signs of carpal tunnel? Probably. ^^ Lol.)))) _

"_I was in Riften. Business." _

"_Oh… Well… Are you hungry?" Vilkas tried to smile, but it came out stretched and shaky._

_Farkas shook his head and started downstairs. "Tired…"_

_Vilkas nodded slightly, trembling. He waited until he heard the door shut behind Farkas to go sit at the table. He stared at the fire, tears welling in his eyes. He swallowed the giant lump in his throat and buried his face in his elbows, closing his eyes. 'I must have done something wrong…' It was no secret Farkas got around, so Vilkas would seem like little more than a sniveling, unpracticed little bitch. He trembled weakly, trying his hardest to fight his tears. "A true companion doesn't cry. A true Nord feels no sadness. A true man shows no emotion." He chanted this to himself until his tears reburied themselves in his heart, safely away from the surface. He sniffled and walked outside. As he walked, he began to gain speed until he was full blown running, ignoring the discomfort in his lower body. After he got outside the city and away from human eyes, he shifted mid stride. He didn't stop running until he was weak with exhaustion. _

_He slept for a few hours before he slowly walked back home. It was deep nighttime so he didn't bother shifting back. He knew a spot on the wall where he could climb up and just walk along the edge, completely out of sight of any guards. He nudged the door to Jorrvaskar open with his nose and walked in slowly. It seemed everyone had returned from their adventures, except Tilma of course. They greeted him with hellos, and he walked slowly down the stairs, tail flicking. He held the door knob with the heels of his hands and twisted it until it opened, then lowered to all fours. He found walking like a dog was more comfortable and energy efficient. _

_He pawed silently to their room, eyes down. He nudged the door open gently then stopped short. He looked around before he dropped his head, curling up on the bed, defeated. The sound of moving furniture from across the hall in their father's room echoed in his mind all night as he slept fitfully for the first time in years. _

_He hadn't slept comfortably since. _

Vilkas wiped his eyes gently, unaware he had been crying. He looked at Farkas as he slept, heart constricting slightly. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his brother's hair, trembling weakly. He fought his tears and waited for sleep to take him.

XXXXX

Ulfric's horse began to grow weak and stagger-y. Ulfric frowned and began looking for a troll's cave or something for them to rest in and dry off. He started them heading back to Markarth when he spotted an overlay with just enough space for a horse to lay down in and a couple people. He snapped the reins and clicked his tongue, leading the horse that way. He was getting tired and starting to feel week himself, so he knew it wasn't wise to try to make it back to town. Once they got near it, he jumped down and gently helped the beast under the cavern. He ducked and headed under before blinking slightly. His heart dropped to the floor as he stared at Celia's unmoving, 2/3's naked body. He rushed to her side and kneeled beside her, putting her head in his lap. Her lips were a dangerous blue, and she was dripping wet. "Celia? Celia, wake up!" He shook her gently, fear settling in. The girl coughed weakly and started shivering violently. He ripped the bag off his back and pulled out the pelts from in it. He laid the biggest one out on the floor and gently put her on it before covering her with the smaller ones. He tugged the kindling out and whispered the first word for Fire Breath. The wood took immediately, and he looked to Celia. She started to slow her shivering, although it was still there. He decided helping the horse would be faster to help. He went to the beast and unwrapped it, taking the half bucket off its head. He patted the beast's nose gently. "Thank you…" He hugged the horse's neck gently before resting the remaining pelt over its back.

Celia whimpered softly in her sleep and curled up tightly amongst the pelts. Ulfric went to her and removed his sopping clothes. He crawled under the blankets with her, just in his small clothes. He held her close, using his remaining body heat to warm her freezing body. He gently rubbed her hands and feet until they had blood moving through them again. He slipped back out of the pelts and started a stew for the both of them, feeding the horse a few carrots and some oats. He moved their clothes to hang nearby the fire. He sat on a rock and watched her sleep, feeling his heart grow heavy. It was his fault she was here, freezing and most likely sick. He closed his eyes, holding his forehead. "I'm sorry, my love…" He left the stew to cook on the colder part of the fire so he could crawl back in with her and he hugged her to him tightly. He kissed her head softly, rubbing her back softly. He watched her sleep, deciding she was one of the most beautiful women in all of Tamriel. He remembered when she wore her Amulet of Mara. Every day or so, she would come home from her adventures or errands and tell him about the people who came onto her. One of them was even Viola Giordano. He shuddered at the thought. That woman's voice… it was unnatural.

"_By the Nine, Ulfric, you're gonna love this one." Celia walked right into the Jarl's quarters and sat on the edge of his bed, her legs crossed, her hands on her knees._

_He looked up at her from his desk, his eyebrow raised. "What is it this time? Did you fall in skeever shit again?" He chuckled softly._

_She wrinkled her nose at him and stuck out her tongue. "Ew. No. I went to the White Phial for a delivery from Wuunferth, and I ran into Viola in the marketplace." She giggled as she leaned back on her palms, looking at her Amulet. "I say hello and ask how she is and whatnot and she looks at me and smiles all flirty like and goes, "An Amulet of Mara, huh? You're looking for marriage then?"" _

_Ulfric blinked before laughing. Celia managed to almost perfectly impersonate that annoying Imperial's voice. Celia laughed as she laid back. "Just to mess with her, I said, "Interested in me, are you?" and she said, "Won't lie. I am. Are you interested in me?" So, I said "I'm not." And she goes, "You're loss then," and walks off like I just lost the prize dragon."_

_Ulfric chuckled and stuffed his paperwork away. He walked over to Celia and joined her on the bed, the pair of them laying back with their knees still off. "Did you know she came to me after you returned her ring to her and asked me to quadruple Sadri's taxes?"_

_Celia scoffed. "Bitch. You halved them like I asked, right?" She looked at him, pouting. She had been adamant the last year since she won him Skyrim that he was to treat the elves equally if not better than the Nords in town. _

_He sighed and nodded. "Yes. And construction on the Gray Quarter is coming to an end. There are just a few finishing touches to add until they're done."_

_She smiled and pecked his cheek. "Good. Thank you." _

_He smiled gently and nodded. He longed to reach out and hold her cheek, brushing her soft lips with his thumb…but his hand remained by his side. She snuggled into him and yawned. "Parthuurnax says he wants to meet with you soon. He's got something to talk to you about." She shrugged as if being summoned by the dragon leader of the Grey Beards was nothing to be excited or concerned about. But, she had always been allowed to see him at her whim. He rarely ever left the mountain. "And, Arngeir has loosened his mind a bit. He said if you wanted to go back and train with them for a while you were completely free to do so."_

_Ulfric nodded and hugged her close. It had barely been a year since their friendship blossomed, and they had taken to taking naps together and spending every hour they weren't doing their political duties with one another. She buried her face in his chest and breathed deeply. She yawned and looked up at him before she squirmed so they were at eye level with one another. He looked into her bloodred eyes and smiled softly. She purred gently and pressed her arms against her chest. He pulled the pelt over them, knowing how easily she grew cold. The Nord blood that coursed through her veins did little to let her resist the cold. Not to mention, she was hardly a mage. The only spell he had ever seen her cast was Candlelight, and even _he_ could cast that. 'I guess you only get the benefits of a species if you're purebred.'_

"_Ulfric?" she looked at him, slipping her slender hand into his. He liked how it felt. Her fingers barely came to the end of his first knuckle. _

"_Yes, Firefly?" he smiled gently at her. _

"_Don't get mad…"_

_He blinked slightly and frowned softly. It was never good when she said that. He nodded slightly. "I'll try…"_

_She blushed gently, something that was extra rare. He liked how it made her look, like there was life in her after all. She held his hand tighter and looked down at them before she quickly jumped forward slightly and pressed her lips against his. Before he could react, she had disentangled herself from the pelts and his arms and ran into the shadows where she would be lost forever. _

He touched his lips gently and closed her eyes, smiling gently. He stroked her cheek as she slept and he gently leaned his head down, his lips finding hers, and held her closer. He moved so his mouth was beside her ear and he whispered softly, "I love you, firefly… Please come back to me soon."


	12. Moot

_**X.x I think I'm going to start a new project soon that will implicate the production of chapters of this story. said I should write professionally, and everyone's said that almost my whole life (so about 9 years since I'm 16 and didn't know how to write until I was about 5…) and I've tried it before… Lol, I have ADD when I write. I realized I have 800 starts to other projects but none of them get past chapter 8… Hmmm….. **_

_**ANYWHO! Review, pwease! ^^**_

I awoke to the smell of vegetable soup, and I sniffed the air gently. The sun was right on my face, but the air was warm and thick with the evaporating rain. Hesitantly, I sat up and looked around. I was alone, save for a pretty horse grazing out in front of my little inlet. I tried to take a deep breath through my nose—because I love the smell of the day after it rains—but an intense coughing fit took over. I doubled over, holding my stomach with one hand and my mouth with the other, trembling violently. It was then I noted my eyes were about to pop out of my head and my heart was jammed between my skull and scalp, right against my temples. I gasped for breath, my throat hoarse and rough as I whined gently. I drew my knees up and leaned over, my face between them. I coughed again as I clutched the pelt beneath me, trembling.

I didn't hear him coming, but I was suddenly enveloped in a pair of big, strong, warm arms and pressed into a wide chest. I breathed in the familiar scent of snowberries and sweat and clutched Ulfric's tunic tightly. I gasped shallowly for air and looked up at him. He frowned softly and brushed my hair back from my face. "We must get you back… You are much sicker than I thought you would be…"

I looked up into his worried, beautiful eyes and smiled weakly. "You...came…for me…" I blinked and blushed from ear to ear, noting he was only in his small clothes. I bit my lip gently and looked away. I knew he wasn't very tan, but I didn't know he was the milky white kind of pale that I loved so much. There were scars all over his body, probably from the Elenwen debacle, and there was not a single hair anywhere in my sight. He had a six pack, of course, and his hips did that thing where they sort of curve into a pair of pants, leaving the middle portion of your stomach in a V shape. I shivered softly.

He smiled gently at me and kissed my forehead, hugging me tightly. _'Don't faint, don't faint, don't faint…'_ "Of course I came for you… I love you too much to lose you, Celia." He looked down at me and the blood my body could spare pooled under my cheeks. He kissed my forehead again before reaching past me, much like he did the last time I was sick. He leaned back and held out the dress he had made for me, and I smiled gently. He jumped up, sitting it beside me before he lifted me to my feet. All the blood in my body rushed to my head, and the world began to spin. I thought I might faint, or at least fall on my arse if it weren't for Ulfric keeping me steady. He leaned down and picked up my dress. With a jump, I realized how naked I was, and I would have blushed as much as I could if my blood wasn't in my brain.

He chuckled gently and helped me into the garment, tying the laces for me. I swayed dangerously and sat back down. He slipped out of the cave and came back within a second, bearing lavender and mint and a wet cloth. He gave me the mint to suck on to calm my stomach and crushed the lavender, ripping the petals up and dropping them in my hair for my muscles. He made me lay back down, laying the cloth on my forehead. I purred softly at how cool it was against my skin. He smiled softly at me. "Just relax." I closed my eyes, curling slightly into the pelt he lifted up around me. I heard him shuffle around and head fabric moving. I pouted softly. _'He's probably getting dressed… Damn.'_ Then, I heard a bit of metal clanking followed by liquid being poured out. He sat back down next to me and removed the cloth gently. He moved me so that I was in his lap, leaning into his chest. I blushed gently and shakily took the spoon from him, eating slowly as he held the bowl for me. He waited patiently until I couldn't eat anymore, and gently laid me back down before he set about packing up his camp. I hugged the pelt tightly and watched him move. He didn't walk. Every step he took was graceful and refined, almost like he was gliding and his feet weren't touching the ground.

Once everything was in his knapsack except for two pelts, he looked gently at me and smiled. He glided over to me and lifted me up before setting me on the horse's saddle. I shivered violently, and he wrapped a pelt around my shoulders, tying two ends so it didn't want to move much. He then set the other one around my legs and ran them under the cinch (((That's the strap that goes under the horse to keep the harness in place))). I smiled gratefully at him before he slipped up behind me. I leaned back into his embrace as he took the reins, pressing close. The reins snapped gently before the horse trotted west towards Markarth. An intense coughing fit knocked me out just as the city and stables were coming into view.

XXXXX

Ulfric frowned softly as Celia went limp in front of him. He pulled her close to him and ushered the horse into a run. He didn't stop at the stables and ran it all the way up the stairs. The guards, noticing who he was, jumped and scrambled to open the door. Ulfric rode right past them, past the marketplace, past the stairs to the Keep, and over the bridge to the alchemist's shop. He scooped the girl up in his arms, making sure she was still covered, and he rushed inside. "I need assistance."

The woman behind the counter, a wrech of a hag, grumbled and came out from behind the counter. She lead him up a small set of stairs into a room with four beds, and gestured for him to lay his love down on one. He complied, and slipped his hand into Celia's. He watched the hag walk—too slowly for his liking—to the front of the shop. She came back with an array of herbs and ingredients and sat down by the bed. "She was in the rain, I take it?"

He nodded softly. "Must have been for at least an hour, then the idiot slept naked in a troll cave." He looked at the pale girl, frowning. "She's been coughing all morning, and she passed out on our way back…"

The hag frowned and grumbled, taking two particularly disgusting ingredients over to the alchemy table. She smashed them up in a mortar and added a bit of water before pouring it into a vial. "Sit her up. This is gonna be nasty. But you mustn't disturb her while it's going on, understood?"

Ulfric frowned but nodded. The hag walked back over to the bed and tilted Celia's head back, plugging the sleeping girl's nose. Pressing the vial to Celia's pale lips, the hag tilted it up. Celia started to choke in her unconsciousness, but the hag rubbed her throat and she accepted it better. The hag pulled a large bowl off the table and rested it under Celia's mouth. She tilted the girl's head forward and bent her back so that she was leaning forward. The hag looked at Ulfric. "Don't move her. You will most likely only make it worse."

He nodded again then winced. Celia's breath became gurgled and strained, and she gasped for air, trembling violently. Ulfric looked at the hag. "What have you done to her?"

She didn't answer but shaped her hands so her palms were sticking up slightly and her fingers were completely air-tight, like a cup. She began to beat Celia's back harshly, and Celia coughed as she gasped before a watery substance flew from her mouth and into the bowl. She coughed it up for half a minute before her breathing returned to normal and she relaxed slightly. The hag pushed her back onto the bed, too roughly, Ulfric thought. He had a right mind to smack the hag, if only she weren't trying to help his bride-to-be. She took a bunch of other ingredients that made him cringe to think of swallowing. He stroked Celia's cheek as the hag repeated the same process as before, but this time, she had him raise Celia again and she gently poured the drink into the sleeping beauty's mouth. She stopped about halfway and corked it. "Give this to her when she wakes up, and make sure she takes it easy. I'd advise bed-ridding her so she does not go anywhere. Now, fork over 999 gold." The greedy bitch held her hand out, and he frowned.

"I do not have money on me. Send a bill to the Keep." He pocketed the potion and gently picked Celia up, cradling her as if she were made of glass. He carried her back to the Keep, cuddling her close. The horse was gone, probably taken back to the stables. He took Celia back to their room and he sat her down gently on the chair before he set to work, making the bed as comfortable as possible. He gently moved her onto the bed and covered her in the warmest pelt they had. He gently sat beside her and stroked her hair gently, watching her sleep. He loved the way she looked, so peaceful, so open… When she was awake, she always looked…scared, on guard. She was always preoccupied, rarely ever giving anything her full attention. He had only ever seen her truly relax when they were together, laying down or sitting by a fire. He idly wondered what was on her mind that made her so afraid. From the descriptions of her adventures, she's seen things he'd never even imagined: ghosts, giant frostbite spiders, drauger, etc. Any other person would have died of fright long ago, but she always recalled her adventures fondly.

He sighed softly and stroked her warm cheek softly, brushing her hair away from her face. He bent over and kissed her head softly before he went to tell the jarls of the situation at hand.

XXXXX

I awoke in a mean haze, my eyes peeling apart very slowly. I coughed heavily and smacked my lips softly, attempting to wet them. I didn't dare try to sit up, my head thundering hard behind my eyes. I yawned and winced slightly as the movement stretched my brain.

"She's awake."

I looked to my right and tensed up, frowning softly in confusion. I looked to my right before I relaxed and reached out for Ulfric's hand. He took it gently and settled beside me on the bed. "They're too impatient to wait for you to get better… So the Moot will be held here." He handed me a pink vial and I coughed hard, flinching. "Drink this, Firefly… The old hag at the alchemy shop said it'll make you feel better."

I took the potion and frowned softly. "It's half empty…"

"She gave you the other half while you were unconscious." He smiled gently down at me and rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. I blushed softly before I nodded and gulped the vile liquid. I learned many years ago that Nords don't believe in sweetening their liquids, and therefore it was best to drink as much as possible as fast as possible. Never sip.

Idgrod clasped his hands together with a loud clap that hurt to hear. He looked around at the jarls and smiled warmly. "Shall we commence, then?"

The others murmured in agreement and I looked at Ulfric. "Help me sit, please…" He nodded and gently lifted me up, moving closer to me so I don't fall. I blushed softly and laid my head on his shoulder, blinking tiredly at the old farts. Elisif had finally appeared. I tried not to want to punch her in the face.

Idgrod clasped his hands, and again I flinched. Ulfric wrapped his arm around me and rubbed my arm gently as Idgrod beamed. "If we're all settled then let's get started. The time has come for Skyrim to once again feel the strong hand of a leader. I'm afraid our holds have become too independent and that may soon lead to uprisings and perhaps even another rebellion." He glanced pointedly at Ulfric and me before continuing. "As Jarl Elisif has remarried, her husband, Klieb, is Acting High King. Needless to say, his unwillingness to act as a king has begun to take a toll on our beloved country. Jarl Dengeir has had to request extra rations from Jarl Laila. The only good thing about this lack of financial aid from the High king is simply this: The Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild have gone out of business because nobody has money to pay for their services anymore. Meanwhile, there have been several reports of pillaging amongst the holds, as well as other acts of unease among the people. We need a High King who is willing to stand up and claim the responsibility and try to help our people."

I smirked inwardly at Elisif's look of utter hatred. I nestled closer to Ulfric and took to playing with a thread on his arm. Several of the jarls nodded in agreement to what Idgrod had said, including Laila. Idgrod nodded. "So, we have two candidates for the job of running our country. Obviously, there is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak who raised a rebellion against the Empire and won, nonetheless." I smiled gently and looked up at Ulfric. He was somber, but I could sense a bit of pride resonating from within his soul. "And, the other has not requested the roll, but 7 out of us agree that she should be seriously considered." I blinked slightly and tilted my head in confusion. If the second candidate was a she, that would mean it was either Laila, Sorli, or Elisif. I highly doubted Elisif would be chosen for the job. I glanced at Sorli The Builder and frowned slightly. She was far too young and dense to even consider _wanting_ the job. That left Laila… If she took the throne, I was going to go live with the Greybeards where they had no part in political debates or decisions.

Idgrod smiled and stood, walking over to us. He knelt beside the bed and took my hand—_'Dear gods, not me…'—_and said, "Celia Hawkbeak, seven of our counsil has agreed that your name should be considered for sitting upon the throne of Skyrim. Will you accept the opportunity?"


	13. Sleeping Tree Sap

_**To clarify, if a review is to be negative, it has to have advice for me. not just, "wtf are you thinking" or something like that. I am taking into account the things that I can improve. **_

_**This is totally coming to an end within the next three chapters. I've taken up an end-of-summer fight and restarted several animes I like, so thoughts of stories for those are running through my mind. Stuff like Fruits Basket, Vampire Knight, Prince of Tennis (because, you know, I'm badass like that). Plus I got Fallout 3, so that's another possibility. But then again. There's people that will probably ruin that as well. Whatever though. ^^ We'll see what happens. **_

_**And, just so everybody knows, I went back and double checked my geography for this chapter, used the elder scrolls wiki for the dragon speech, and I've read over this three times to ensure I like how it sounds. I hope it's somewhat acceptable to the trolls. **_

I couldn't breathe. The room around me rattled and spun and all sorts of other visually confusing verbs my mind couldn't find a term for. My stomach started to rise slowly towards my throat, threatening to spill over. A servant stepped into the room, bringing a tankard of thick ale to me. I took it with shaking hands and knocked it back, trying my damn hardest not to look desperate for the distraction. The only thing that kept me tethered down to the planet was the soothingly calm presence of Ulfric, who moved over into a chair beside my bed. He had his political face on. But, where his arm had been wrapped around me, where I had been pressed against him, every inch of flesh was risen with goose bumps and burned with the gentle heat of a fireplace. I envied him his political savvy for a moment as I hooked my arms under my knees, drawing them to my chest. My mind raced a thousand miles an hour, dragon's wings pounding behind my eyes. _'Ulfric is better suited to be High King… He plans wars well and can truly defend Skyrim much better than I could…'_ I glanced at my king, biting the inside of my lip. _'But, he hasn't been among the people for almost a decade… He doesn't know how everybody's suffering…'_

"Dragonborn, we need an answer."

I grunted slightly and turned my gaze to my friends. Each face—except for Elisif, Laila, and Skald—had an eager, impatient expression as I thought. I frowned softly and reached up to my hair, enclosing it in my fist before I repeatedly ran my hands down through it. I glanced at Ulfric, who was the only person in the room who was looking at me patiently. He smiled so lightly that only someone who had spent hours just watching his face would notice. Someone like me. I breathed in gently and looked at Idgrod. "Dear friend, I'm afraid I must decline your offer. Although the title of High Queen is most desirable, I fear I have little I could do for my country."

Idgrod's expression fell slightly before it was replaced by a knowing smile, the one a loving father might wear. He nodded gently and stood, turning to look at his fellow jarls. "Well, friends, is there anyone among us who would wish to challenge Ulfric Stormcloak for the title of High King?"

There was a moment of silence before Skald stood, grinning grossly from ear to ear. "I am." He looked pointedly at me, and I couldn't miss the way he licked the side of his lip, just out of Ulfric's line of sight. I fought to keep the disgusting potion down and shivered gently, subconsciously scooting closer to my king so he could protect me. In my weakened state, I doubted I could fight off a butterfly.

Idgrod looked around for oppositions and other candidates before he shrugged. "Alright then. Shall we get straight to voting or do we want to discuss pros and cons for each man?"

Elisif snorted effeminately, but managed to bite her tongue. Korir yawned before waving his hand. "Oh, just get on with it."

Idgrod nodded. "Ulfric, lad, stand and join Skald." He waited until Ulfric had left my bedside and stepped over to Skald, easily towering over the old codger. Idgrod cleared his throat and turned to the jarls again. "We, the nine jarls of Stormcloak Skyrim have gathered to decide which head should bear the crown of High King. Jarls Ulfric and Skald are our only two candidates. As such, they have no say in this vote. Today, we stand here in the presence of Celia the Dragonborn, who represents the neutrality the Greybeards maintain. Is there anyone among us who requests something in regards to this Moot?"

Elisif stood from her chair, face stern and far less fair without her smile, and cleared her throat. "I, Elisif the Fair, request a moment to ask the opinion of my steward."

There were a few murmurs of agreement and Idgrod shrugged. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Very well, then. We, the jarls, will take a half hour hiatus from this gathering to speak to our advisors and stewards. Don't be late in returning. I'm not going to wait on anybody."

The others mumbled in agreement as they left, leaving me alone with Skald and Ulfric. I watched the old codger closely as I instinctively scooted closer to Ulfric. Skald's words from dinner the other night rang clear in my head, despite the thick drunken haze that followed them shortly. I yawned, feigning indifference as I looked at my king. I stretched and flinched, immediately regretting the action, and I laid back against the wall. "Are the twins still here?"

Ulfric looked at me and nodded. "Yes. They are staying at the inn until the week is up. I will take you to them after the Moot, should you so desire." He looked at Skald before contemplating a tapestry on the wall.

I nodded, a deep and icy tendril coursing up and down my spine, making sure to get in deep between my vertebrae as Skald turned his gaze on me. I leaned over and slipped my hand into Ulfric's, willing him to look at me. He seemed to sense my discomfort because his warm grip tightened on mine and he looked at me with his soul-grasping gaze. I felt myself relax just the slightest amount, looking deep into his blue eyes. Unfortunately, my relaxation was short lived because not even three moments later did a courier run into the room. The kid walked over to Ulfric and held out a letter with a fancy wax seal on it. "Jarl Ulfric. This letter has just arrived for you. The sender said it was urgent that you go speak to her immediately. She is waiting for you in Calcemo's work area."

He looked at the seal and nodded, opening it. His eyes skimmed over each word as he read before he pocketed the paper, smiling at me. Ulfric moved onto the side of my bed, taking my hand between his. He looked at me sternly, eyes hard. "I will be back momentarily. In the meantime, you must not over exert yourself."

I smiled tiredly and patted his top hand with my free one. _'Good gods above… I think my arm might just fall off…'_ I thought. "A big, cold tankard says I'll still be awake when you come back…"

He chuckled softly and nodded. "You're on."

The courier cleared his throat, bouncing back and forth impatiently. Ulfric glanced at him before he sighed and kissed my hand. There was no way I could miss the warning look in his eyes as he looked at me. He rose, then, and strode powerfully from the room, courier in tow. I swallowed dryly and held my breath, willing my arm to lift up and over to the brush left sitting on my bedside table. I pulled my arm back to my hair, running the brush through my dark locks slowly. There was something...idyllic and soothing about the sensation of having something gliding through my hair. I found this sensation to be quite addictive, and mediating in this state had become quite the obsession.

I took a deep breath, masking it as a sigh. I was quite weak; the tiny action of reaching for Ulfric's hand had left me lightheaded and exhausted, and brushing my hair was like carrying hundreds of pounds more than I could bear. Automatically, I was ashamed and embarrassed that I had allowed my body to fall to this inane and humiliating state, but I was more afraid than anything. If Skald decided to try something with me, there was just not any way I could see myself winning. My entire skeleton had been replaced with pure ebony and infused with dragon bone, and all my muscles had been stripped and switched out with dried out leather. As well as all this, my head was a full blown forge, smithy included and hard at work. Staying awake through the Moot would be an incredible challenge.

Hell, staying awake _**now**_ was hard. My senses were slowly blurring together into one big mesh of bleh, the way they get when someone is just seconds away from passing out. I blinked repeatedly, pushing the pelt halfway off of me to let the cold shock me so I could wake up more. I barely noticed Skald settling beside me on the bed, wouldn't have if he hadn't rested his nasty, wrinkle hand on my already freezing thigh. I looked tiredly at it, blinking slowly. I heaved my thousand pound hand and pushed his away, frowning as much as I could. He smirked and leaned close to my ear, breath poignant and rancid, burning my nose. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me to him as I fought to keep my eyes awake. He licked the shell of my ear, sure to leave it nice and wet so it would get cold. He whispered softly, nose nuzzled into my hair. "I'm going to make you mine one day, whore…" He blew on my ear to cool the slimy saliva that clung to my skin. I shuddered weakly and growled. My anger and disgust fueled me just enough to lift my arm and plunge it into his groin with just enough force to reduce him to his knees. He clutched his crotch, growling and he spat at me. "You damned bitch!"

I giggled once, just before a thick, cold, crashing wave of darkness smacked me straight in the face, and my head met the soft featheriness of my pillow.

XXXXX

_The sun was rising slowly over the horizon, lighting the sky up with gentle shades of orange and pink, the air surprisingly warm against my skin. Snow drifted off of either side of me, floating off with the soothingly warm breeze that shivered across my skin. I looked out across my homeland, at the river that started against the wall of mountains behind Riften, the water snaking down through the land, at the lazy clouds that drifted listlessly through the sky, at the ocean of light that lay just beyond. For some reason, Morrowind was almost never in my sight. It just looked like a gentle massive sea, just resting lazily under the sun. As I gazed at the surmountable beauty of my homeland, a hawk flew calmly across my line of view, and I knew I should want to shoot it down, to scavenge it for goodies, but something was compelling me to just look and bask in the serenity that surrounded me. I smiled gently, closing my eyes gently as a soft, warm breeze wafted over me. I smiled wider and reopened my eyes, my position finally clicking. I was standing on the edge of the Throat of the World, at the last few steps you take once you ascend the treacherous slopes from High Hrothgar. Something told me I should be freezing my ass off, but my body felt as warm as if I were back home in Windhelm, curled up by the fireplace with my pelts wrapped around me. I turned around and stepped up the last few feet of the hill, blinking at the sight before me. I felt a hint of a blush touch my cheeks and I bit the inside of my lip. Somehow, half of Skyrim seemed to have squirmed their way onto the surface area of the mountain top, parting to leave a single aisle to Paarthurnax's Word of Power wall thingy. Waiting at the end of the aisle was a man wearing the robes of Mara standing behind a shrine of Dibella and a shrine of Mara. _

_ Standing beside the priest was Ulfric. My heart slammed to a screeching stop as I took in the sight of him. He was dressed in some of the nicest clothes I had ever seen on a man, clothes truly fit for a king. He was dressed in black, with a black bear pelt draped around his shoulders. His blond hair was shiny and neat, like he had just washed it, and the braids on the side of his head were pulled back and tied there to hold the rest of his hair back. Atop his head rested a simple golden crown, the same color as his hair. Paarthurnax drifted down from the heavens and rested on a dragon-perch-sized rock on the peak to my left, where the unmalting snow lay. He looked at me and bowed his head gently. "Drem Yo Lok, Britlokkiir__1__. And best wishes on this day." He bowed his head again before turning to look towards Ulfric. _

_ My feet moved of their own accord, stepping forward and drifting easily down the aisle of people. I realized I knew everybody here, Lod the Blacksmith, Madesi the jeweler from Riften, and more than a few farmers and homeless people, but all were my friends. Many people smiled at me, offering me silent wishes of happiness. As I stepped up to Ulfric, standing beside him, my viewpoint switched abruptly, and I found myself in the audience. The woman standing beside Ulfric was so strangely familiar, but she didn't feel like somebody I had met before. She had the darkest, longest, and prettiest hair anybody had ever seen, but it was braided down the back and draped over her shoulder. She had bright red eyes which were rimmed with black, making the color stand out brightly. She was dressed in a full length black gown that had a three foot train. The top of it was cut in a V, showing off some of her cleavage, and the sleeves started a third of the way down her bicep, leaving her shoulders bare. The sleeves also flared out widely at her hands, leaving only her fingers in sight. The front of the dress was cut between her legs, stopping at her knees, but it gave her a graceful sort of appearance. Despite the bitter cold of the snow, she wore no shoes and her feet barely touched the ground as she walked. Truly, she was a vision, her pale skin almost blending into the snow. _

_ The priest started speaking, but his words were mumbled and slurred together. He still got the point across that this frighteningly familiar phantom woman was going to marry High King Ulfric Stormcloak and sit beside him on the throne. I watched as the girl turned towards Ulfric, both of them holding by the hands before they met in a gentle, swift kiss. Everybody around me either threw their hands in the air and cheered or applauded loudly, almost everybody shouting in joy. Paarthurnax settled atop the Word wall and leaned his head to the ground. The girl slipped behind the beast's head, holding its horns gently until Ulfric jumped beside her and hugged her close to him. He said something in his powerful voice that I wasn't able to make out just before Paarthurnax took off with a powerful beat of his wings, carrying away the royal couple. _

_ I watched them drift off into the moonset__2__ before turning to leave. The world slipped into darkness for a moment before I awoke beside Ulfric, nestled in close to him. I moved to lay my head on his chest before my stomach hit against his leg before any other part of me did. I looked down to see I was heavily pregnant, most likely in my eighth month. Surprisingly, I wasn't surprised at all to see the baby bulge, and in fact I was sort of happy to see it. I looked back at the slumbering Ulfric, watching his chest rise and lower with his breaths. A strong bout of restlessness forced me to my feet, and I stepped silently out into the stone hallway. I was untouched by the cold, despite only being clad in a gossamer sleeping gown. I looked up and down the stone passageway before my restlessness was replaced with a strong sense of boredom and grogginess. _

_When I turned around to return to my beloved husband, however, our big wooden door was gone, blank wall in its place. Confused, I turned and headed up the corridor, looking for any of the doors that were previously embedded in the stone walls. As I walked, my legs and arms began to ache. I rubbed at my eyes, and as I removed my hand, a frail old woman with strong ebony hair and burning red eyes appeared to my left. I squeaked and jumped, looking at her in surprise, but as I moved she did the same. I blinked softly in confusion before opening my mouth to ask her where I was. As I did so, though, she did the same. I paused to let her speak first, minding one of the few mannerisms my mother taught me (_"Respect your elders, you stupid brat. Always. Else you're going to get locked in the smoker again."_) We continued to mimic each other's movements at the same time, a sensation of unease growing in the pit of my stomach. I reached up and rubbed my ear, freezing in place. She again did the same thing, but, on the back of her arm was a strong burn mark, identical to one I had earned on my journey through Blackreach. I looked more closely at her, noticing more and more similarities between her and me just before I looked at my own hand. It was withered and wrinkled with age, much like hers, and I realized I was hunched over closer to the ground than I ever had been before. The realization that this was some sort of looking pool on a wall sank in, and below me the earth cracked open. I gasped as I was sucked under the ground, sinking downwards._

_Above me, where I had broken through was getting covered with thick ice, and above it was the old woman, laughing and pointing at me. My lungs filled with icy water, and I turned to see where I was heading, clawing at my throat. I gasped pointlessly for air that simply wasn't there, and I could see I was sinking—though it felt more like falling—towards a fire burning brightly. Just inches before I crashed headfirst into it, though, I froze in midair/midwater. _

XXXXXX

"Celia. Wake up."

I opened my eyes slowly, looking up at Ulfric. I sat up slowly, my weakness far more manageable than it had been. I rubbed my eyes blearily and coughed. "How long…?"

"Only an hour. We had a distraction during our Moot hiatus, thus we were not even aware of your sleeping. But now that you are awake, we can once again resume our meeting," smirked Idgrod.

I nodded weakly and leaned back against the wall, yawning widely. At the back of my throat, I tasted the bittersweet residue of Sleeping Tree Sap. I had only ever tasted it once before, but the taste was so unpleasant that it burned itself into my mind. I frowned weakly, watching as they began to bicker and debate the pros and cons of each candidate jarl: Ulfric was a hothead; Skald is too old; Ulfric is good looking (Of _course_ Laila would throw that in there. I made sure to cast a glare to her.); Skald is far too grumpy for the job, especially since his own townsfolk can't stand him at times; etc. I hugged my knees to my chest and quickly ran my brush through my hair repeatedly, watching each of the jarls with increasing boredom. Laila was all for Ulfric; in fact, she and Elisif got into a rather loud argument over him that continued for a good ten minutes until Idgrod told them to shut their mouths.

The discussion went on for what seemed like days, and everybody's attitude just kept getting worse and worse. Finally, as the servants were bringing in platters of food for us, Idgrod cleared his throat. "Alright, friends, I think we've heard enough. Now, let's go ahead and pick a damn King so we can get drunk!"

Several cheered in agreement, and Idgrod yawned. "So, with that said, all in favor of Skald, please raise your hand."

Elisif's pale hand quickly shot into the air before Idgrod had even finished his sentence. Skald held his hand up, smirking, and they were joined by Sorli the Builder. "You can't vote, Skald. Candidates don't get a say in the matter." Skald narrowed his eyes and dropped his hand to his side, huffing. That was it.

Idgrod looked around and waited a couple more seconds before nodding. "Those in favor of Ulfric, raise your hands." Everybody except Ulfric, myself, and the women who voted for Skald raised their hands proudly. I smiled gently and looked at Ulfric to gauge his reaction. His eyes were alight with the joy he kept buried within, hidden behind a nonchalant expression. I tuned out whatever initiating words Idgrod was saying, focusing instead on the look in Ulfric's eyes as he swore the first oath. Tomorrow, letters would go out to all the cities and settlements, asking everybody to gather on the steps of the Palace of the Kings on the 9th of Rain's Hand. That was two weeks away. Everybody except Skald and the ladies cheered as we began to stuff our faces with the delicious foods. I was more wary of everything set before me. I studied it closely and even smelled it for traces of the bittersweet sap that had put me to sleep earlier. I didn't have to look to know that Skald was watching me intently as I ate and I bit my lip gently. I would let Ulfric have his night of rejoicing before I would tell him of my drugging. For now, though, I wasn't letting Skald out of my sight.

As I was eating, a servant popped up behind me and placed a letter by my tankard as she refilled it. Before I could ask who had sent it, she had slipped back into the kitchens to get more food. I looked around to see if anybody else was watching me, but no one even noticed I was there. Not even Ulfric, who laughed heartily with Idgrod and Laila.

I narrowed my eyes slightly and slowly opened the letter before ice crept into my veins and enveloped my entire being. I slowly folded the letter and set it down, keeping my fear tucked deep away inside, hoping I was passing off as just being bored. Skald chuckled from the other end of the table and went back to scarfing down his meat. As I lifted my tankard, I couldn't stop the trembling in my hands, and it just got worse until I had dropped the mug. I was dizzy, dizzier than I had been in years. I stood up shakily to excuse myself, but I couldn't make it one step before I fell into the icy waters of unconsciousness.

**Britlokiir**_** means Beautiful Sky Child. **__** wiki/Dragon_Language**__** That's where I got it from, and please don't pick at it because dragon names are made up of three dragon words. I think Britlokiir would be mildly acceptable. **_

"_**moonset" because you know how there's like, three moons in Skyrim? Well, at the very crack of dawn, if you're on the TotW, you can see where the moons are disappearing. Thus, if a sun is setting it's called sunset, so if a moon is setting, why can't it be moonset? **_


End file.
